


Bonfire Hearts

by questionableatbest



Category: The 100 (TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2015-05-15
Packaged: 2018-03-02 23:27:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 38,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2829911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/questionableatbest/pseuds/questionableatbest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke and Bellamy have both been attending the same camp for years- Clarke's there because she owns half of it, and Bellamy works as a counsellor so that Octavia can attend. Clarke just finished her first year of college, during which her best friend Wells died, and she can't imagine being at Camp Ark without him, but Bellamy's constant teasing helps her feel normal again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Logically, Clarke knew that sitting in her car wasn't going to get her anywhere, but she pulled her sunglasses down over her eyes and stayed where she was anyways. The sun hadn't started to set, but it was at the point where everything was a little bit too bright, and after being on the road all day her eyes were overly sensitive to the light. Glancing at the clock on her dashboard, she realized just how late she was. All counsellors were supposed to have arrived at Camp Ark by 4 o'clock for their initiation weekend, and she would have made it on time if she hadn't turned down the wrong road a couple of miles back. Obviously nobody would believe that after almost 20 summers spent at the camp she would have any trouble finding her way there, but she doubted they would question her when she showed up.

She told herself that she was going to leave. That she was going to keep driving down the stupid, dirt road that she had pulled over onto, leave everything she had dealt with behind and never come back, but she didn't. She just sat there.

After another hour or so the sun started setting, and with it her rebellion started to fade. Glancing down at the phone she had turned off and ignored, she realized that her temporary disappearance had caused quite a bit of panic, particularly for her mother. She typed the words 'I'm fine' and pressed send, before throwing the offending piece of technology into the empty passenger seat, starting the car, and driving away.

The sound of the radio breaking through the silence simultaneously startled her and brought her back to reality, but nothing could have prepared her for her arrival. In the hour that she had been driving after her detour, the sun had gone down completely, which for anybody else would have caused difficulties navigating the narrow, dark path of trees that lead to camp entrance, but Clarke had been doing it for years, and managed to get there relatively unscathed in record time, though she couldn't decide if that was a good thing.

Parking her car was one thing, but actually getting out of it was something else completely. Breathing in the fresh air that can only be found far, far away from any big cities and ridiculously close to a lake stopped her in her tracks for a second, and she remembered the last time she had been there and who she had been with.

But that wouldn't do. Shoving those memories aside and glancing at the bonfire by the beach which was surely where all of her friends could be found, she grabbed her bags and walked towards the main building.

Of course, selectively forgetting things has its downsides, one of them being that Clarke hadn't prepared herself for the pictures covering the walls of the building. Feeling ambushed but not defeated, she trekked on and finally found herself in front of the office of one of the last people she wanted to talk to.

Thelonious Jaha looked up from his desk, a weary expression painting his face. "So, you decided to show up after all?"

Ignoring the open hostility that the older man directed towards her, she collapsed on the couch in the corner of his office. "I would've thought you'd understand. I mean, out of everyone else."

His face softened as he took in the girl sitting across from him. Despite the bags under her eyes and the cold, distant expression on her face, he could almost see the ghost of his son sitting on the couch beside her, where their younger selves had spent so much of their time. "Clarke," he said in a voice that was by no standards steady, "it's been months. I know how much it hurts, I feel that every day. But I would've thought that you'd know how important it is to keep going."

He could tell immediately that he had said the wrong thing as a bitter, half smile took over her face. "Really, Jaha? You want to go there?" She said in a sharp tone that clearly indicated the end of the conversation. "What cabin am I in?"

Sighing, the man shuffled some papers on his desk. "You're in 6 with the Blake girl."

"And what activity am I running?"

And that question was what broke the normally calm, composed man. "Clarke Griffin, for as long as I can remember you've been begging to be in charge of this camps art program, and I told you could have the position months ago, so don't think for a second that you're getting out of it now. You can pull this shit with your mother, but it's not working here. I've known you your whole life, and I know you quite a bit better then you'd like to admit, and I know that this'll be good for you, and there's no way you're getting out of it. End of discussion."

Clarke sat, transfixed in her spot on the couch, gaping at the man who was now all but ignoring her, until she heard a noise come from behind her. She spun around, ready to give whoever had dared listen to what Jaha had just said a piece of her mine, and came face to face with none other than Bellamy Blake.

"Oh, hey Princess, you're back!" The insufferable assface said in an overly cheery tone with a smirk on his face that did not waver in the slightest when the girl in question grabbed her bags, storming around him and out of the room.

Sure, she could hold her own against just about everybody she knew, and Bellamy really wasn't an exception, but there was something about him seeing her at her worst that she just couldn't handle. Over the years his constant teasing was something that she'd become accustomed to and had even grown to enjoy, but she just couldn't shake off the feeling of dread that she experienced when people saw her at her worst.

She didn't bother turning around, but she could hear him following her back down the halls and out into the open. "Not tonight, Blake."

"Well, at least let me accompany you to your palace, m'lady," he said catching up beside her and matching her pace with an ease that made her even more frustrated. "Here, let me help with your bags."

"Since when have you ever helped me before, Bellamy?" She sighed, starting to feel defeated. "I really don't need your pity right now."

"That's not fair, and you know it." For the first time in their conversation, the smirk on his face started to disappear, but it wasn't gone for long. "Remember the paintball war of '07? You would've been dead in 5 minutes without my help. And I still haven't told anybody about that whole swimming thing? And what about that one time when-"

Clarke stopped walking suddenly and turned to face the man beside her. Getting a good look at his face, she realized just how true his words might be. Looking into his eyes wasn't something that she made a habit of, but when she did do it on occasion she was always startled by the raw honesty that lived there.

"Really?"

"Really," he reassured her. "Besides, what kind of a Head Counsellor would I be if I let you carry these all by yourself, in the dark? You could get mauled by a bear! Or worse- you could run into Murphy!"

Relieved at the light hearted turn the conversation had taken, Clarke finally gave in, passed her heaviest bag along to Bellamy who took it with ease, and resumed walking, this time at a more relaxed pace. "What is it with you and that story? I've spent the better part of two decades here, and I haven't encountered anybody living in the forest- let alone a crazy person who tries to lure people into his hut by hitting rocks together."

"I'm telling you, Griffin, Murphy's out there, just waiting for pretty girls like you to wander through these parts by themselves."

"Oh, so you think I'm pretty now?" Clarke teased, partially because she was curious about the comment, but mostly so that she could see his face turn a shade of red that was noticeable even on the dimly lit path they were walking. Like every other girl that attended Camp Ark, Clarke had once had a crush on Bellamy, but those days were long gone. She had grown up and left her awkward, 13-year-old self behind, but that didn't mean that she couldn't get back at the boy who'd spent a summer tormenting her about her feelings for him.

Luckily for him, they were currently passing the bonfire, and had barely stepped into the dim light created by it when they were noticed by none other than Octavia Blake. The girl let out a screech that had everybody's ears ringing, and threw herself at her best friend, ignoring her brothers presence entirely.

"Clarke! Oh my god, I knew you'd come!" She gushed, which only made Clarke hug her even harder. The bubbly, brown haired girl had a way of getting under peoples skins and going straight to their hearts, and it was impossible to be around her without getting excited about something, which was exactly what Clarke needed at the moment.

"It's really good to see you O! I hear we're roommates?"

"Hells yeah we are, and this year there are more cabins than counsellors, so I managed to get us our own!"

At that revelation Clarke finally, truly smiled. Sure, she loved just about everybody and everything at camp, but there were very few people she could handle being around 24/7. Luckily, Octavia was one of them. "That's fantastic! Cabin 6, right? I was just going to drop my bags off!"

"Okay, go, go, go! And then come back! And bring this one," she gestured at her brother, who had stood by their sides with a smile on his face throughout their reunion.

"Okay, we'll just be a second," Clarke laughed, before her and Bellamy continued their way down the path.

A happy, comfortable silence followed them for the rest of the walk, which was fine by Clarke's standards- if her past experience at the bonfires told her anything, quiet was going to be hard to come by for the next few hours.

Arriving at the cabin, Clarke opened the door and immediately dropped the bags that she was carrying onto one of the beds that hadn't been claimed, letting out a sigh of relief.

"I could've taken more than one, Princess," Bellamy chuckled looking at the small, exhausted girl in front of him.

"But I gave you the heaviest one!" Clarke protested.

"If you say so," Bellamy bragged as he made a show of lifting the large suitcase with one hand and then throwing it onto the bed, 8 feet away from where he was standing.

"Alright, alright Mr. Muscles, very impressive."

"Really, Princess? Mr. Muscles? That's the best you can do?"

Choosing to ignore the fact that she had yet to find a nickname for him that was quite as catchy as the one he had for her, she started unpacking her bags. "I'm just going to freshen up a bit- I've been driving all day. You can head down to the bonfire without me; I'll just catch up in a few minutes."

"I look forward to it, your highness." Clarke turned around just in time to see him complete an incredibly elaborate bow that she couldn't help but laugh at.

As soon as he left she went back to her spot on the bed, leaning on the pile of bags that were beside her, surprised at how tired she was. Taking the moment to look around the cabin, she realized that it was one she hadn't actually camped in before, which was rare, and she had assumed it had been done on purpose. There was still an air of familiarity around it, which was something that she was used to at the camp, and she wouldn't trade anything in the world for it. No matter what other feelings came with being at Camp Ark, this was truly the only place Clarke felt at home, and for that she would just have to suffer through the rest.


	2. Chapter 2

"Wooohoooo, Clarke, we missed you!" Jasper cheered, slightly slurring his words, before throwing himself at his blonde friend.

Before Clarke could escape the embrace, she felt somebody else stumble into her arms. Clearly Jasper and Monty still did everything as a pair.

"I should've known you guys would already have made a dent in the moonshine," she laughed, happy that her two friends hadn't changed.

"Uhm, of course we have Clarke, it's tradition." As Monty defended their actions, he passed Clarke a red cup filled with something way too strong for her liking.

Against her better judgement, Clarke took a tentative sip of whatever it was, before practically choking on it, "Jesus guys, what's in this?"

"A little bit of everything! We wanted to start the summer off with a bang!" Octavia joined in the conversation, wrapping her arm around Clarke's neck and giving her a side hug.

"I thought we agreed to never let you play bartender again, like, ever," Clarke groaned. "Don't you guys remember the end of season bonfire last year?"

"I try not to," Monty shuddered, causing the group of friends to laugh at the memories.

"But we had so much fun!" Octavia protested.

"Yeah but at what cost? You didn't seem to think that when you were puking everywhere the next day," Clarke reminded her, playfully.

"But nobody was worse than Wells- he was so out of it, he just kept going on about how we were growing up and-" Jasper stopped suddenly, realizing what he was saying and just how silent his group of friends had become.

With everybody around her looking ashamed and distressed at the turn the conversation had taken, the only thing Clarke could think to do was down her drink. Wincing at the after taste, she finally looked up with a smile on her face, though everybody noticed how it didn't reach her eyes.

"I don't know about you guys, but I need a refill." Leaving her worried, distraught friends behind, she wandered over to the punch bowl that was filled with the concoction most people were drinking, but at the last moment opted instead to take a beer can from the cooler on the ground beside it.

"Good call," an unfamiliar voice came from behind her, "I'm pretty sure that's really just motor fuel and mouth wash."

"You never know with these guys," she agreed, taking in the person in front of her. He had a quick smile and hair that fell just a little bit too long, but he was pretty cute overall. "I'm Clarke."

"Finn. Nice to meet you."

"You're new here?"

"Is it that obvious?"

She laughed, and was about to explain that she knew just about every person who'd ever set foot in the camp, when Octavia got everybody's attention. "Okay guys, tonight's like, the only night we get to ourselves before Jaha gets all serious on us, so we really need to have some fun, and since Clarke just got here, I think we should honour her by playing her favourite game- Never Have I Ever!"

There was a chorus of people laughing and raising their drinks in agreement, as Clarke protested, "Octavia, I'm pretty sure that's your favourite game."

"Fine, then I guess I'll go first! Mmm, Never have I ever.. Uhmm.. Gone to a private school!" She declared, her smile growing wider when Clarke was one of the few people to drink. "Your turn, Monty!"

"Okay, never have I ever jumped off the roof of the lifeguard building!" He said, knowing that Clarke was the only person to have ever attempted that stunt (and had spent the rest of the summer with her wrist in a cast because of it).

"Come on guys, now you're just trying to get me drunk."

Everybody ignored Clarke's complaints, and it was Jasper's turn. "Never have I ever hid in a tree for 5 hours to avoid cleaning my cabin."

Finishing her drink, Clarke groaned "I was 8," but the frustration in her voice was gone, amusement at her friends antics taking over.

Miller, one of Bellamy's friends who was a few years older than her, took pity on her after that. "Never have I ever not gone to camp."

Clarke sighed in relief at that one, as it allowed her to take a break and grab another drink.

While her friends didn't stop targeting her, she got used to it and was pleasantly buzzed by the time it was Roma's turn, and the girl blurted out, "Never have I ever owned a camp."

The fun, joking atmosphere seemed to vanish immediately, and Clarke froze for a second, before realizing that the girl hadn't meant any harm by it; she just had a tendency to speak without thinking, and hadn't realized how touchy people were about that topic. "Fair enough," Clarke declared, and once again finished her drink.

Of course, she'd forgotten about Finn, who had situated himself in the seat beside her. "Wait, you own this place? How'd you manage that?"

Feeling the tension growing around her once again, Clarke let out a sigh. "My dad died, and left it to me." She said, in a voice that was completely void of emotion, and didn't move from her spot where she sat staring at the fire until she felt Octavia by her side.

"I'm actually like, really tired. How about we head back to our cabin?"

Clarke, breaking out of her trance, realized just how much alcohol she and consumed, looked up at her friend and sighed once again, "Yeah, good idea."

*****

As Clarke walked away from the fire, she avoided looking anybody in the eye and Bellamy knew it was because of how guity she felt. He'd seen her act this way before, the summer after her father had died; people had tip toed around her, treating her with kid gloves, all of which had just made her feel like a burden to them. Of course, he'd never voiced any of this to her, but he did notice it, which is why he found himself standing up and walking to the other side of the fire.

"Watch yourself, would you?"

"I'm sorry, what?" The boy he had met earlier that day- was his name Finn?- asked.

"Clarke's been through a lot- she doesn't need idiots like you bringing up every bad thing that's happened in her life." Bellamy explained, his annoyance getting the better of him.

"What are you, her boyfriend?" The boy sitting in front of him said with an angry laugh.

Bellamy had honestly never thought of Clarke that way. She'd always been his little sisters friend, and his bosses daughter- the girl he liked to tease, and sometimes argue with (watching her fight back was entertaining, and she was one of the only people he knew that could give him a run for his money), but nothing more.

"No, definitely not- just a friend." Though saying that didn't sound right either, and all of a sudden he was rather flustered. "People around here care about her. If you hurt her again you'll be in trouble." At that Bellamy turned to walk away, grabbing a beer and heading back to his cabin.

He was confused about just how protective he had felt over Clarke, and about how much the way Finn had been looking at her all night had bothered him, but decided not to think on it.

However, rather than heading straight there, he decided to take the longer route, passing by Clarke and Octavia's cabin in the process. He assured himself that he was just fulfilling his duties, as head counsellor, even though he didn't really believe the lie himself.

When Bellamy saw his sisters friend arrive at camp earlier that evening, he couldn't help but notice just how beaten down she'd looked. He had no doubt that getting there had been a struggle, and couldn't imagine the toll that it was taking on her. Of course, for him the natural reaction to this was to follow her into the offices, eavesdrop on her conversation, and then accompany her back to her cabin.

While he knew better than to let pity guide his actions, there was something about seeing the way Clarke looked and acted today that made him feel for her. She had grown up well, and the fact that she was genuinely really attractive didn't escape his notice, but it was also impossible not to see the bags under her eyes, and the way she had been looking around nervously, as if she expected to see a ghost. Tying that together with the defensive attitude that she was projecting like a shield, and he knew that this would be a rough summer for her.

He had known Clarke since she was 10, which was the same year that he, at 15, had started working at Camp Ark. Her father, Jake Griffin, and his friend, Thelonious Jaha, used to run the place together, and had taken pity on him when he offered to work for free, as long as, in exchange, his sister could be a camper.

That first summer, Clarke and Octavia had become fast friends, and the partnership that had previously been Clarke and Wells quickly became a trio, known for the trouble they caused. While all of the other kids their age had still been slightly afraid of the counsellors, Clarke was the exception, and Bellamy still remembered the way she had crossed her arms and turned up her nose the first time he had tried to tell her what to do, earning herself the name 'Princess' in the process.

The summers after that had been more or less the same, but in a good way. Clarke, Octavia, Wells, and eventually Jasper and Monty would run around causing trouble, while Bellamy mostly hung out with the other counsellors, but always made sure to have a one liner ready for when Clarke was near- even when she was younger, she could fight back better than most people he knew.

He had grown to enjoy their interactions, and knew that she didn't mind them as much as she pretended to, which is probably why he missed them so much the summer she turned 15. Jake Griffin's death surprised everyone, but nobody was more shaken up about it then Clarke. He remembered seeing her at the funeral (him and Octavia had sat on a bus for 3 hours to get there), and thinking just how small and broken she looked. He hadn't said much to her that day- just watched as his sister and Wells stayed by her side the whole time, silently supporting her. They'd left that evening, and hadn't seen her again until the summer, when it seemed like once again she always had somebody by her side, and most of the time it had been Wells. He had shielded her from the world in a way that she had needed, and by the end of the summer she had been back to her fun, confident self, for the most part.

In the following years there were still times when Bellamy noticed Clarke getting silent and distant, as if she was in a different world entirely, and he didn't blame her. Losing his own mother had been hard, and he hadn't even been close to her- Jake Griffin had meant the world to Clarke- he couldn't imagine how it had felt to lose him. From what Octavia had said, he knew that Clarke still wasn't on good terms with her mother (having blamed her for her fathers death), meaning that she had likely had to pull herself back together this time. Keeping that in mind, Bellamy knew that losing Wells- the person who had helped her move on from her father's death- must have been devastating.

Bellamy had known her for forever, so it was only natural for him to notice these things, and it made perfect sense that he would want to protect him.

That's what he told himself. That's why he had followed her into the offices and bothered her until he got her laughing again. And that's why he practically threatened to beat up Finn when he'd upset her. And why he couldn't stop thinking about her. He was just looking out for the little girl he had known for so long. That's all it was.


	3. Chapter 3

Clarke had never been a morning person, and when she heard a horn blaring outside her window at 7AM she was reminded why.

"Everybody up, outside, by the lake in 5 minutes. Don't be late." A voice was projected through the megaphone, and despite the heavy static it was producing, Clarke could have sworn it was Bellamy.

"I know he raised you and all, and no offense, but your brother's a masochist," she groaned to her roommate, while dragging herself out of bed.

"Nah, just a control freak." Octavia rolled her eyes, stumbling over to her still unpacked suitcase.

"He had just as much to drink as we did last night; shouldn't he at least be hung over?"

"I'm sure he was, but once he realized that he gets to spend the rest of the summer bossing everybody around it probably cleared right up."

Clarke laughed at that and they began to head outside, both opting to keep their pajamas on instead of getting changed- if Bellamy had wanted his counsellors in top shape, he should have given them more time to prepare. And to sleep.

"You know, you and him seemed pretty chatty last night- him helping with your bags and everything..." Octavia mentioned, glancing at the other girl to see how she would react.

"Yeah," Clarke scoffed, "He feels bad for me, just like everyone else. It's sweet, but I'm sure he'll be back to his annoying self soon enough."

"Clarke, about that… how are you doing? I know we haven't had a chance to talk about anything yet, but you know I'm here for you, right?" Octavia looked over at Clarke, hoping that she hadn't pushed her too far.

"Thanks O, I know… it's just really hard right now. Thinking about him hurts so much, but all this place does is bring back memories, and I don't really know what to say right now. But how are you doing? You were his friend too."

"I know what you mean about it being hard, but I'll be fine. I've been missing him like crazy, and there's nothing I can do to stop that, but I was talking to Bell before we came here and he told me to try and focus on the good memories- at least that way I can control them, you know? Sometimes it helps me block everything else out."

"Yeah, that's good advice," Clarke admitted, happy that Octavia had somebody to talk to about all of it. She was about to go on when she realized that they were fast approaching the group of disgruntled looking counsellors standing by the lake, and that they were all gathered around Bellamy. "Speak of the devil…"

"What was that, Princess?" Bellamy called out, assuming that they were talking about him.

"Just happy to see you, Blake!"

"Well, I wish I could say the same, but it turns out you and O are actually 19 seconds late."

"Oh, the horror!" Clarke rolled her eyes.

"Now, now Griffin, you know the drill."

"Really Bell? It was 19 seconds." Octavia interrupted, knowing that, if her brother had a soft spot, it was her.

"Sorry O, but rooming with the Princess doesn't get you any special treatment in my books."

"And the fact that I'm your sister?" Octavia protested, desperately.

"Not going to work this time," he said to her, in a voice that lacked any sympathy whatsoever, and made it clear just how much he was enjoying it. "For those of you that are new here, take this as a lesson- Punctuality is important! Now, you two were the only ones late, so looks like you're the only ones going for a swim this morning!"

Clarke rolled her eyes again, both at the stupid tradition and at the stupid man who took so much pleasure in enforcing it. Regretting that her and Octavia hadn't bothered to put clothes on, Clarke looked down at the tank top and pair of boxer shorts she was wearing and shrugged, before looking at Bellamy one last time, marching to the end of the sock, and diving in.

Shocked by the cold water, she came up a few feet from where she'd entered the water, and was joined by Octavia who looked about as unimpressed as she felt.

Looking back to the shore, she saw that, while half of the people looked rather sympathetic, the majority of them were just plain amused. "Happy, sir?" She directed at Bellamy, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Ecstatic," he said with a small smile that showed he wasn't lying. "Now get out of there, we've got work to do."

Shaking her head, Clarke swam back to the dock where Octavia had just climbed out of the water, and looked up to see Bellamy extending his hand down to her. She looked at it suspiciously, before an idea struck her and she grabbed it. As he went to pull her out of the water, she began to throw all of her weight back into it in an attempt to pull him in with her. Unfortunately, it seemed that Bellamy had other plans, and he simply held on tighter, looked her in the eye, and said, "Don't even think about it, Princess," before pulling her out of the water completely.

She was surprised at his strength, but hid it well. Shaking her head as she regained her footing on the dock, Clarke smiled coyly at him. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Whatever you say," he chuckled, momentarily seeming to forget that they were standing in front of 30 other people, as his eyes trailed up and down her body that her clothes were clinging to. "Nice pajamas." He added, smirking but sounding slightly out of breath, before turning back around and once again addressing the whole group.

"Okay guys, campers start arriving in 5 hours. You've all got half an hour to get changed, grab something to eat, and do whatever else you've got to do before I want you in your positions. Those of you that are staying in cabins with the kids need to have them clean, decorated, and ready. The activities counsellors should be at your specific stations, ready to go by. Once everything is set up to my approval you'll be given your jobs for the day. Now get out of here!"

Octavia stayed behind for a moment, most likely to yell at her brother, so Clarke was heading back to her cabin alone when she heard a voice call out behind her, "Hey, no hard feelings, right?"

Clarke turned to see Finn walking up behind her. Her face remained blank, as she tried to remember what exactly he was talking about. He seemed to recognize her confusion and said, "Last night- I didn't mean to bring up any bad memories… I guess sometimes I can be too curious for my own good."

"Ohhhh," Clarke said, finally realizing what he was talking about. "No, no, don't worry about that- it was nothing. You didn't mean anything by it, it's fine." She assured him.

"Okay, good," he sighed in relief. "I felt terrible about it all night. I would've hated to ruin our chance at being friends."

"No, we're good," Clarke said, quickly growing tired of the conversation. She had gotten used to people tip toeing around her, and had spent her fair share of time comforting them when they got upset about hurting her feelings.

Apparently catching on to her displeasure with the conversation, he changed topics. "So, besides owning the place, what's your job here?"

"I'm the arts counsellor, you?"

"I've got a cabin of the 8-10s- hopefully I'll see you around!"

"Yeah, definitely!" Clarke agreed happily, watching as Finn walked away, before turning around and heading back to her cabin, where Octavia was waiting for her.

"Okay, so what's the deal with Finn?" Her friend asked the second she walked into the room.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Clarke said, ignoring the blush that crept up her face and the squealing noises that Octavia started to make.

"You like him!" She exclaimed victoriously.

"He's cute, and he seems nice, but I don't know…" Clarke admitted.

"Clarkey, Clarkey, Clarkey, he is cute and nice. What more could you want?"

"I don't know, O, I don't think I want anything serious, but we'll see what happens, okay?" Clarke said, desperately trying to change the subject.

"Whatever you say… I've got to head out- I'm so excited to be co-leading the Outdoors Adventure program! And you know, Lincoln isn't all that bad to look at…"

"Your brother's going to love that!" Clarke laughed, imagining what the over-protective man would do when he found out that Octavia was interested in somebody who was older than he was.

"He'll deal with it," she shrugged, before hugging Clarke and practically dancing out the cabin door.

Alone, Clarke made quick work of changing out of her still wet pajamas, into a pair of shorts and the standard, 'Camp Ark Counsellor' t-shit, opting to roll up the sleeves as a sad attempt to combat the heat. She hadn't had time to shower, so she pulled her hair into a loose, messy bun, before finding her shoes and sunglasses and heading out the door.

On the way to the arts room she tried to ignore where she was going, but was unable to do so anymore when she found herself standing in front of the building that it was in. Taking a deep breath, she pushed her sunglasses onto the top of her head and walked inside, turning left to head up the stairs that lead to the top floor.

Somebody had been there before her, and had opened the curtains and windows, filling the room with sunlight and fresh air. Everything looked the same as it always had, and that fact alone hit Clarke incredibly hard, causing her to remember the last time she had been in there.

It had been the second last day of camp last summer, and she was given the task of cleaning the room and taking inventory of the supplies. Wells, being the good friend that he was, had offered to help her, and, unsurprisingly, very little work had actually gotten done. Instead, she had forced him to sit by the window in his usual spot, and she had used the little art supplies left over from the summer to sketch a picture of him, using whatever leftover paint she could find to fill in the blank spaces. She had done it as a joke, but he had adored the finished project, and had ended up hanging it in his dorm room.

Clarke felt tears begin to form in her eyes at the memory and shook her head, not wanting to fall apart on her second day back. Instead, she finally entered the room, ignoring all the other memories that surfaced. Not wanting to spend any more time in there than necessary, she began unpacking the painting supplies that she would need for the activities she was leading later on that day.

She was setting paintbrushes out on the tables when she heard somebody coming up the stairs, and turned around to see Bellamy leaning against the food frame. "Hey Blake, what's up?"

"Just checking on your progress, you almost done?"

"I will be soon enough," she assured him, going back to setting up the tables. "I'd probably be done by now if I hadn't had to take a pit stop in the lake."

"You were the one who was late, Princess. I don't make the rules, I just enforce them." He chuckled as he saw Clarke roll her eyes, knowing that he had made her do it more than anyone else she knew.

Choosing to ignore his presence, she headed back over to the supply cupboards, frustrated to realize that the stack of paper she needed was out of her reach. Not wanting to admit defeat, she opened one of the lower drawers, stepping on it, trying to gain the height she needed. It worked, so she lifted her other foot off the ground and leaned her knee against another cupboard. Feeling confident, she began to reach for the stack of papers, which is when she realized just how unstable of a position she was in. Before she could do anything about it one of the cupboards gave out, causing her to fall backwards. She braced herself to hit the ground, but at the last minute felt a strong pair of hands grab her waist, helping right her.

When her feet hit the ground she took in a deep breath, turning around to see Bellamy standing directly in front of her. "Thanks," she gasped.

Realizing just how close they were, Bellamy took his hands off of her hips and stepped back. "Any time, Princess." Reaching around her, he stood on his toes and was able to reach the stack of papers easily, handing them to her. "Watch yourself next time, would you? I won't always be around to save you."

"I'm sure I'll manage without you," she laughed, returning to her work. She distributed the papers on a table near the front of the room before turning around and seeing that Bellamy was still standing where she had left him with a strange smile on his face. "So, what did you come here for again?"

"Just keeping an eye on my counsellors, you know, doing my job," he said casually. "So once you're done here, you can head down to the front gates. You're going to be giving people directions for the first hour or so, probably walking a lot of them to their cabins, stuff like that. We'll need you back in here for 2:00, and you'll be here doing crafts of whatever until kids head back to their cabins for 5:00. After that just come find me and I'll give you something to do."

"I've done this for years Bellamy, I know how it works," she reassured him, slightly amused at how serious he was taking his job.

"I know, I know, I'm just making sure." At that he smiled, waving at her before he headed out the door, leaving Clarke alone in the room once again.


	4. Chapter 4

After Bellamy had left Clarke in the art room his day got substantially more complicated. Being one of the few senior members of the staff meant that the first day of camp was pretty much hell for him. He was one of the few people that everybody could come to for help, and they all did.

The first few hours after campers started arriving had been a huge, messy blur, and it wasn't until Clarke had shown up that he could finally take a breather. The girl had spent half of her life at the camp, and as a result knew more about it than anybody. She had also known him for a while, and could easily see how hassled he was, so she had spent the rest of the day by his side, doing what needed to be done without having to be asked. He had lost her after the campers had been dismissed from the dining hall, and assumed that she had gone back to her cabin with his sister for a much deserved break.

By the time he stood up everybody else had left the mess hall, so as he was leaving he was surprised to see a girl sitting by herself just outside of the building. "Hey, shouldn't you be with your cabin?"

His voice startled her into turning around, and after seeing her face he could tell that she was one of the youngest campers they had, probably around 8 years old. Rather than responding, she continued to stare at him, eventually causing him to break the silence. "I'm Bellamy. What's your name?"

"Charlotte," she said in a quiet but firm voice, looking back at the ground as he approached her.

Taking a seat on a bench across from her, he repeated his previous question. "Well Charlotte, shouldn't you be with your cabin?"

"Yeah, but I don't care. I don't want to go back to my cabin." The defiance in her voice was strong, but she still hadn't looked back up at him.

"And why is that?"

"Because it's haunted! This whole camp is- I heard a counsellor talking about the ghosts that live here and about all of the dead people, and about that guy that lives in the woods, and it's too dangerous to go out there." Her voice was quite a bit more frantic than it had been, leading Bellamy to realize just how scared she actually was.

"Charlotte, those are just stories," Bellamy said in an exasperated voice, before reminding himself to be patient with her. "I've been coming to this camp for 10 years, and I've never seen anything like that, I promise."

"Just because you haven't seen them doesn't mean they don't exist, and I'm not going to wait around for them to hurt me."

Sighing, Bellamy decided to try a different tactic. "You know Charlotte, everybody's afraid of something. You just can't let it win. You've got to fight back."

That caught her interest, and she finally looked up at him. "How do I do that?"

"You've got to tell yourself that you're not afraid. If you do that, they won't hurt you."

"Promise?" She still looked skeptical, but the fact that she was now willing to look Bellamy in the eye showed him that he had won.

"I promise. Now, how about I walk you back to your cabin? It's almost time for the bonfire.." Charlotte still looked uncertain, but that didn't stop her from grabbing Bellamy's hand and pulling him in the right direction.

Shaking his head as he followed the girl, he couldn't help but be reminded of Octavia and the similar discussions he'd had with her when she was younger.

******

When Clarke and Octavia got to the bonfire that night there the kids were already gathered around it, sitting in groups based on their cabins. Spotting Lincoln in the crowd, Octavia smiled apologetically at Clarke before making her way over to him. Laughing at the other girl, Clarke was then left to find her own seat and found that one of the only spots left was beside Bellamy. Shrugging, she circled the fire and sat down beside him.

He nodded at her and she returned the gesture with a half-smile, but neither of them spoke, and she really didn't mind the silence. She had spent the day running around, trying to ensure that everything was in order and, was exhausted because of it. While it was a feeling that she had grown used to and come to expect on the first day of camp, it was different. Over the past months she had felt that way constantly, but this time it went straight to her bones, and the memories that were constantly flooding back to her did little to help.

Back when her father was alive, they would drive up to Ark on her first day of her summer vacation and she would spend days working with him, Jaha, and Wells to get everything set up just right. After he had died, she had waited until the day before camp started to show up, leaving the set up to Jaha, Wells, and whatever employees were there for pre-season. This year Jaha would have been the only one there, and all of a sudden Clarke was struck by how incredibly sad that was.

Looking around the fire, she was overwhelmed by how many unfamiliar faces she saw. Sure, people came and went, but generally speaking there were always more returning campers then there were new ones. While this was still the case, she couldn't help but focus on the new faces rather than the old ones, realizing just how much things had changed in the past few years. More than anything else, she couldn't fathom how the two most important people in her life were gone, and how, out of what she always considered to be Camp Ark's original occupants, only half of them remained.

Breaking out of her silent reverie, she noticed that Bellamy was staring at her with a strange, slightly concerned look on his face.

"Hey." Her voice was short and awkward, and sounded about as uncertain as she felt.

"Daydreaming?" He asked, giving her an easy way out of a discussion that she really didn't want to have.

"Yeah, god, I'm sorry… Everything's just so... It's been a long day."

"I feel you there, Princess." He leaned forward slightly, looking back to the fire.

"What were you saying before?"

"Oh, nothing, I just wanted to thank you for your help today." Mumbling the last part of the sentence, he looked away before he could catch the gleeful look on Clarke's face.

"Bellamy Blake, needing my help, and admitting it too- what had this world come to?" Ignoring his groans, Clarke couldn't stop herself from gloating, knowing just how rare it was for Bellamy to acknowledge that he needed others.

"Shut up, Princess." Despite his harsh words, he couldn't help but smile along with her- she really did have a beautiful smile, and it was becoming much too rare of a thing.

As the two of them fell into an amicable silence, Clarke looked up into the night sky and, as always, was amazed at how brightly and clearly all of the stars shone.

Bellamy couldn't help but watch her as she watched the stars, so he wasn't startled when she grabbed his arm to get his attention before pointing his gaze to the sky. "Look, a shooting star!"

Chuckling at her excitement, he looked to where she was pointing. "I hate to break it to you Princess, but that's an airplane."

"What-no, it can't be," Clarke stuttered, before realizing that he was right. "Oh."

As soon as she realized her mistake, it seemed like Clarke deflated. Bellamy couldn't help but feel bad about ending her excitement and sending her back to the monotonous state that she'd been in since she had arrived. "Come on, Princess, I'm sure you can still make a wish on that," he encouraged her, hoping to see her light up again.

Knowing that he meant well, Clarke threw a slight smile in his direction. "I wouldn't even know what to wish for."

"You'll figure it out, just give it time." They both knew he was referring to more than just her wish-on-an-airplane, but neither of them really wanted to go down that road at a bonfire surrounded by children.

Instead, Clarke nodded her head. "Octavia's right- you're not a complete ass all of the time. She's really lucky to have you."

They both knew that she was attempting to change the subject, but before he had a chance to comply one of the other counsellors waltzed up to them. "Hey Bellamy, is this seat taken?" She gestured to the ridiculously small sliver of space that existed between him and Clarke, ignoring her completely in the process.

Really, it was nothing new. Clarke had grown used to watching the other counsellors throwing themselves at him, but that didn't mean she wanted to stick around to watch it play out. "I was actually just leaving," Clarke stood up, ignoring Bellamy's protests and leaving her seat open to his suitor. "I'll see you later, Blake."

It was getting late, and the younger campers were starting to go to bed, which left a lot of empty seats around the fire. Taking one near Octavia and Lincoln, she smiled at them before turning back to the fire. For some reason, she couldn't shake the feeling of discontent that swept over her whenever she glanced over at Bellamy and the girl, who she now recognized as Roma, who were now sitting almost directly across from her.

Obviously she wasn't jealous. That would be ridiculous. Sure, he was good looking, with his tall, strong build, messy brown hair, and his smile that could light up a city, but she didn't like him that way. On a good day she could barely tolerate him! And he clearly wasn't interested in her, so she shook her head and tried to get rid of the ridiculous thoughts clouding it- she was just upset because their conversation had been interrupted. Obviously.

Once again, she was incredibly distracted, staring into the fire with an intensity that could have put it out, when Finn sat down beside her.

"So, how'd day one go for you?"

"It was good!" Glancing at Bellamy one last time, she turned her focus on him entirely, once again noticing just how cute he was. "I'll turn these kids into artists yet!"

"I don't doubt it," he laughed. "You really love that stuff, don't you?"

"Yeah, I mean, I haven't painted in a while, but I used to do it all the time," she said, before realizing that the conversation was quickly sliding into uncomfortable territory. "School keeps me busy, so there's really just not all that much time for it anymore… I'm taking premed."

Finn let out a low whistle at that, drawing some attention to them. "Wow, so I should be calling you Dr. Griffin."

"Maybe just stick with Clarke for now," she laughed.

"Or Princess?" The impish look on his face didn't escape her notice as she rolled her eyes.

"Hey, get your own nickname for her," Bellamy suddenly joined in their conversation from across the campfire, causing Clarke let out a short, somewhat annoyed laugh, while Finn sat beside her looking startled.

"Ignore him. He has trouble minding his own business." Projecting the last part of the sentence across the fire, she hoped that he got the not-so-subtle hint.

"You love me, Princess," he shot back arrogantly, ignoring the displeased looks of Roma, who had practically maneuvered herself into his lap at that point.

Choosing not the grace that with a response, Clarke shook her head one again and turned back to Finn. "What are you studying?"

"I'm actually not in school right now. I got my high school diploma a few years back and decided to take some time off to do volunteer work."

The pride was evident in his voice, so Clarke encouraged him to keep talking. "That's so cool! Is it, like, World Vision type stuff?"

"Yeah, kind of," he said, leaning closer to Clarke, "I'm just really trying to make a difference in the world, you know? Like, so many people just focus on getting into school and then getting jobs and then having kids but, like, where do you live, you know? Like, what's the point of all of this if we don't try to make a difference, right?"

"I guess so, yeah…" Impressed by his passion but unsure of what to say next, Clarke opted to steer the conversation back to more familiar grounds. "Do you think you'll ever go back to school?"

"I'm registered to start a poli-sci degree in the fall, but I haven't decided for sure yet. There are just so many other options, you know?"

"Yeah, it's definitely a big decision," she agreed, and for some reason felt comfortable opening up to him. "I'm mostly doing the premed stuff because of my mom- she's one of the top neuro surgeons in the country, so there's a lot of pressure there, so I get what you mean."

"That's still really impressive," he said, causing Clarke to flush at the admiration in his voice. "Do you want to be a surgeon too?"

"No, I think I'd enjoy pediatrics the most, but I don't really know about anything else," she trailed off, before gaining traction again. "Working with the kids here is so much fun- I'd love for something like that to be incorporated into my real job."

"Yeah, totally," he nodded appreciatively.

As their conversation slowly came to a stop Clarke looked around, noticing how empty the bonfire had become. Octavia and Lincoln were still sitting slightly to the left of them, and Bellamy was across the fire, though Roma was nowhere to be seen, and there were a few groups of the older campers scattered about, but it had definitely gotten late.

"It was really nice talking to you, but I'm going to head back to my cabin now," Clarke voiced her thoughts with an apologetic smile.

"Oh, wow, you're right- I hadn't noticed. Good conversation and all that, I guess. But hey, let me walk you back to your cabin!" Finn stood up, extending one hand out to Clarke, who took it and allowed herself to be pulled up.

Rather than letting go of her hand, Finn held on and guided Clarke away from the fire. Glancing back, she saw Octavia wink at her, and was surprised to see Bellamy with a sour look on his face. Ignoring both of them she kept pace with Finn, who was looking at her with a soft smile on his face that made her happier than she had expected.

Arriving back at her cabin, she pulled her hand out of his grasp and smiled up at him. "Well, here we are."

"Here we are," he repeated.

The awkwardness of the situation was evident to both of them, so Clarke spoke up. "I'll see you around, Finn."

"I'm counting on it," he winked at her, causing her face to flush once again, and leaving her unsure of what to say.

Throwing him one last smile she turned around and floated into her cabin, shutting the door behind her before collapsing on her bed, feeling giddy and more excited than she had in a long time.


	5. Chapter 5

"Okay guys, I know we've only used pencils and markers so far, so I was thinking today we could switch things up a little bit," Clarke said to the group of children sitting at the tables in front of her, watching her intently. "Today we're going to start painting!"

Their enthusiastic cheers drowned out the sound of her laughter, and as they settled down she continued. "Do any of you know what primary colors are?"

Looking around the room, she saw that at least half of them had their hands raised. Making a show out of trying to pick somebody to answer the question, she finally settled on a young girl in the back row who she knew had taken an interest in art. "Charlotte?"

"They're red and blue and yellow and if you mix them you can make every other color!" Her voice was quiet, but the fact that she answered the question at all showed that she was starting to come out of her shell.

"That's exactly right!" Clarke smiled, while offering the praise. "So, today I want you guys to use those three colors and your job is going to be to mix them together and make as many different colors as possible."

She spent the next ten minutes or so getting the kids set up, doling out paint, paint brushes, paper, pallets, and smocks. As she was finishing up, distributing cups of water to each table, she heard somebody clear their throat behind her, and turned around to see Finn.

"Don't you have a job to be doing?" She asked, smiling at him and standing up.

"Sure I do! I'm here to check on my kids," he insisted, before waving to a group of young boys that seemed to be taking pleasure in the different shades of brown they were creating. "You just happened to be here!"

"Right," Clarke said, while looking over a girls work and smiling in encouragement.

"And since this is the station my campers are at, I'm pretty much obliged to stay here and help you out!"

"I don't remember reading that rule, and none of the other counsellors seem to think it applies, but if you insist," Clarke couldn't help but laugh. "Why don't you go help out your boys over there? It looks like they need to be reminded that brown isn't the only color there is."

"While I'm not entirely sure you're correct about that, I'll see what I can do." Clarke watched with amusement as he wandered over to the table they were at, sat at the benches, grabbed his own paper, and started working with them. Chuckling, she turned away and started helping the campers at other tables.

The kids were eager to share their work with her, and their enthusiasm was contagious. By the time she had done her rounds and checked on all of the tables she was smiling brighter than she had in a long time, and the air around her seemed lighter in general.

As she approached Finn's table, he looked up and smiled at her. "Hey guys, how's it going over here?"

"Good," came the chorus of responses from the boys, who had finally moved on to explore other colors.

"And you're keeping this one in line?" She gestured at Finn, who feigned outrage.

"I've done nothing but help you today, and that's the thanks I get?"

"Because you've been suuuuch a help," she teased, while pointedly looking at the paint on the table around him.

"Great art requires sacrifice," he said solemnly, as he stood up, rounded the table and approached her.

"Right," she said in mock seriousness. "Art."

"Art." He agreed, as he stopped in front of her, holding her gaze for a second before his hand came out of nowhere and drew a line of blue paint across her cheek.

Gasping in surprise, Clarke let out a slight shriek. "You're going to regret that!" She looked around desperately for something to retaliate with while Finn and the kids looked on in amusement.

"Am I?" Finn taunted, backing away slightly.

She was just about to lunge at him with a wet paintbrush that Charlotte had discretely handed her, when she heard somebody by the door clearing their throat for the second time that day.

Turning around, she saw that Bellamy was leaning against the doorframe with an unimpressed look on his face.

"Oh, hey Blake," she said, hoping that acting casually would prevent the scolding that she knew was coming next. "What's up?"

"Nothing much, Princess. Just making sure everything's running smoothly." At that his gaze flickered to the paint on Finn's hand- apparently the boys sheepish expression told him everything he needed to know.

"Mind stepping outside for a second?" Though he phrased is as a question, Clarke knew it was more of a demand, so she didn't bother arguing as she followed him outside.

After climbing down the first flight of stairs, Bellamy stopped abruptly, surprising Clarke and causing her to lose her balance. She was righting herself when he spun around to face her.

When he didn't speak for a couple of seconds, Clarke decided to break the silence. "So, what's up?"

"Getting a bit friendly in there, don't you think?" The anger was evident on his face.

"Yeah, we were… It's almost like we're friends," she said slowly, somewhat baffled over his attitude; she'd seen him act this way towards Octavia, but that was because of how ridiculously overprotective he was- he had absolutely no reason to treat her like this.

"Well it needs to stop. You can flirt with whoever you want in your spare time, but not when you're supposed to be working."

"Supposed to be working? I was working." She said in outrage. "Besides, talk about the pot calling the kettle black; like you haven't hooked up with half the counsellors here! And what about Monty and Miller? It's okay for them to flirt because Miller's your friend? And what about Octavia and Lincoln?"

"Wait, what about Lincoln and Octavia?" Clarke realized a moment too late that she probably shouldn't have mentioned that, and opted to change the subject.

"Look, I do my job better than pretty much anybody else here, and you know that's not going to change, regardless of who I flirt with, so mind your own goddam business."

He still looked furious, but had obviously run out of arguments and didn't make a move to stop her as she spun around, leaving him standing at the foot of the stairs.

*****

Octavia had been headed to the art room to hang out with Clarke on her break when she saw Bellamy leaving the building she was approaching looking angrier than usual.

"Hey big brother, what's up?" She called out to him just as he was about to walk by without noticing her.

Ignoring the question entirely, he glared at her for a few seconds before talking. "How's Lincoln?"

Octavia took a step back and winced at that, caught off guard by his harsh tone. "Good… It's nice working with him?"

"God O, he's older than me," he practically yelled, running a hand through his hair.

"What's your problem?" She asked, almost letting her anger at his overprotective streak get the best of her, before realizing where he was coming from and who he had likely just been talking to. "What, did you get into a fight with your Princess?"

Octavia knew her brother, and she knew Clarke, so she was no stranger to the complex, and often times just plain strange, relationship between the two of them. Glancing at the building in front of them once again, she saw Finn leaving and suddenly it made sense.

When it came to talking to Bellamy about feelings, an indirect approach was often the best way to go. "So, what do you think of the new guy?" She asked, gesturing towards Finn.

Bellamy looked up at that, and the anger that flashed across his face when he realized who Octavia was talking about was enough to tell her everything she needed to know. Of course, he didn't realize that.

"Oh, you know, he seems…" he trailed off, to his sisters' amusement. "You know I'm not supposed to talk badly about the counsellors- I'm supposed to be impartial and all of that."

"But if that weren't the case…" She prompted him.

"I'd say he's a stupid hippy who needs to stop following Clarke around like a lost puppy," he muttered mostly to himself.

Octavia knew it wouldn't do any good to push him further on that, so she let it go. "Right… Anyways, it looks like Clarke'll be done soon; I was going to grab lunch with her if you wanted to join us?"

"It's probably best if I pass on that one," he said meekly. "I don't think I'm in her good books right now."

Octavia had to laugh at the expression on his face, knowing that there were very few people who could make Bellamy Blake feel shameful, and taking pleasure in the fact that Clarke was one of them.

"I'll see you later then!" She leaned up to kiss him on the cheek before turning around and dancing away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm super sorry for how long it took to post this... I wasn't feeling very motivated, which also probably explains why this one is so short, and I kept getting ideas for other fics that I just had to write, so yeah... BUT I plan on posting the next chapter really soon, so hopefully that makes up for it!  
> Also, your comments mean the world to me, so thank you for those :)


	6. Chapter 6

Walking back to her cabin a few nights later, Clarke wasn't particularly surprised to hear something rustle in the woods behind her, but stopped when she heard footsteps a few seconds later. She was familiar with the path, but not many other people used it, opting instead to stay out of the forest that was at the center of most of Camp Ark's ghost stories.

"Hello?" She called out, hoping that it was just a lost camper.

Nobody responded for a few seconds, which gave Clarke just enough time to get nervous enough to jump and let out a small scream when Finn stumbled out of the forest onto the path beside her. "Hey Clarke!"

"What are you doing out here?" She gasped, catching her breath.

"… I was just going for a walk, you?"

At Finns puzzled expression, she realized how strangely she had been acting. "I was heading back to my cabin- it's just, normally I don't run into people out here, so you startled me. I'm not always this paranoid, really."

"I don't blame you… I've heard the ghost stories too," Finn chuckled. "Hey, do you want to see something cool?"

The sudden change of topic was enough to throw Clarke off, but only for a second. "Uhmm… Sure?"

Laughing at her hesitation, Finn grabbed her hand and started pulling her off the path.

"Wait, where are we going?" Clarke asked, somewhat skeptical of where he was taking her.

"It's a surprise- just trust me!" Finally, the enthusiasm in his voice won Clarke over and she allowed herself to be lead off the path.

"You're not going to get us lost, are you?"

"Have a little faith."

Smiling at that, she shook her head, surprised when they stopped abruptly in front of a large tree.

Baffled by the expectant look on Finn's face, she finally broke the silence. "Wow. This is a really cool tree."

"It's not just a tree, Clarke… Look up!" Doing so, Clarke was surprised to see that there was a large wooden box built in the tree, and realized that Finn had found a tree house.

"There isn't a ladder, but we can just climb the tree, and there's a hold in the bottom that's supposed to be the door!" Once again, his enthusiasm got the best of him, though Clarke wasn't completely sold on the idea.

"I don't know… it doesn't exactly look safe." This wasn't the first time she had come across a tree house; she had spent a large portion of her childhood wandering the forest with Wells, and had actually found quite a few of them. Of course, she had never actually gone into them; nobody knew how long they'd been there, and they could likely collapse at any moment.

"Oh, come on, Clarke… Look, I've already been up there, and I'm fine!" At that, he turned away from her, walked half way around the tree, and started climbing.

The higher up he got, the more Clarke wanted to follow him which is why, when he disappeared through the hole in the floor boards and, after a few seconds, didn't fall to his death, she grabbed the lowest hanging branch on the tree and started climbing.

When she was about half way up, Clarke made the mistake of looking down and realizing just how painful the fall would be. Taking in a shaky breath, she tried to forget about it as she looked back towards the tree house and saw that Finn's head was poking out of the door, waiting for her. Tossing him a smile, she continued her ascent and, when it was within reach, grabbed the hand that he offered her.

He pulled her into the fort, causing her to lose her footing and stumble into him. When she regained her footing, she realized just how close they were standing, and just how intensely he was looking at her. Smiling, she backed away to explore the rest of the room.

Of course, due to the fact that it was made for children to play in and was relatively small, there really wasn't very much for her to explore.

"So how'd you find this place?" She asked, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

"I really love being outside and exploring, so I do what I can on my breaks," he explained, leaning against one of the four walls.

"Yeah?" She prompted him to elaborate while looking through a hole in one of the walls that was likely meant to be a window.

"Yeah, I've taken some how-to-survive-in-nature type classes, stuff like that," he said, moving closer to her so that they could share the view.

"So, you were a boy scout?" She teased, before turning around and realizing just how close to her he was.

"No way," he said, stopping in front of her and leaving very little space between them. "It was much more intense than that."

"Oh really?" She asked, raising an eyebrow and looking up at him with mock skepticism in her eyes.

"Nope, I was a boy scout." He confirmed, causing her to let out a ridiculous bark of a laugh that, in turn, had both of them laughing hysterically.

When Clarke finally stopped laughing she tilted her head to look up at Finn and saw the transfixed expression he wore on his face. All of a sudden she was reminded to how closely they were standing, but that didn't stop her from taking one more step towards him and closing what little distance was left. The smile had faded from her face, and she was still looking up at him when she her tongue darted out of her mouth to lick her lips, which appeared to be what woke him from his trance.

It wasn't clear who started the kiss, but after a couple of seconds they were both engaged in it enthusiastically and whole-heartedly. It wasn't rushed, desperate, or overly passionate, but it was nice, and simple, and simple was good.

Without breaking the kiss, Clarke took a step back so that she could relax against the wall, but as she was doing so she stepped on a lose board, and felt her left foot fall through the floor. Gasping in surprise, she fell away from Finn, who grabbed onto both of her arms to keep her from going any further down.

With one knee on the ground, the other through the floorboards, and her arms being held over her head, she looked up at Finn. "I told you it wouldn't be safe up here!"

"Hey, I saved you," he protested.

"Mmmmm, well let's get out of here anyways; one near-death experience a day is generally my limit."

Clarke sat back, and when she was sure that she wasn't going to fall to her death Finn let go of her arms. She then extracted her leg from the floor, and saw that she was luckily to escape with only a few scratches.

Finn left the fort first, climbing back down to safety and giving Clarke a moment to think, before realizing that she didn't necessarily want to think. Instead, she followed him down the tree quickly, before landing on the ground beside him.

"So…" she trailed off, leaning against the tree and looking anywhere but at him.

Finn, on the other hand, didn't seem embarrassed at all. "I really do like you, you know that, right?"

That surprised Clarke into looking at him; normally she was the one who confessed her feelings and was left to watch boys who weren't ready for relationships run away as fast as they could. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, that's cool," Clarke was thrown off by the intensity in his voice, but quickly realized that she probably hadn't said the right thing. "I mean, I like you too."

With a small smile on his face, Finn once again closed the distance between them, but this time only did it to plant a small, sweet kiss on her cheek. "Okay, that's cool," he smirked.

"So, uhmm, yeah," Clarke mumbled, not really sure of what to say. "I'll see you around, I guess."

She heard him laughing as she turned around and began to walk back to the path that would take her to her cabin, and just before she was out of hearing distance, he called out to her, "Good night Clarke."

*******

After being at camp for a little bit over a week, Bellamy was exhausted. So, when he finally had a night off he had decided to pay Octavia a visit, see how she was doing, and possibly ask her a few more questions about Lincoln.

He had arrived at her cabin to find her alone, which was rare, and it had only taken him a few minutes to convince her to hang out with him, rather than go for a late-night swim with some of the other counsellors.

They had been talking about nothing in particular, with Octavia lounging on her bed and Bellamy sprawled out on what he suspected was Clarke's, when she barged into the cabin in a flurry of smiles and giggles.

"Oh my god, O, you are not going to believe what-" To Bellamy's amusement, she cut herself off when she saw him.

"Oh, Bellamy." Somehow, her tone was both abrupt and hesitant at the same time, and he could tell that she was still upset about the other day.

"Princess," he said curtly, nodding at her but not moving from her bed. "What were you saying?"

"Nothing, it was just-" she seemed to change her mind in the middle of the sentence, turning to face Octavia before continuing. "Actually, I really don't care if he hears it. So, I was walking back here and I ran into Finn, and he wanted to show me this tree fort he found, so we went there, and we ended up talking for a little bit and then he kissed me!"

Octavia's screeches of excitement were enough to drown out Bellamy's groans, and his presence was all but forgotten. Clarke had joined Octavia on her bed, leaning against the wall next to it so that she was facing both of the Blakes.

"So, how was it?" Octavia asked, leaning up so that she could see her friend.

At Clarke's hesitation, Bellamy also looked up, curious as to what her answer would be.

"It was… nice." She finally declared, which prompted dissatisfied noises from Octavia, while Bellamy simply laughed.

"Nice? If that's all you've got to say, then he definitely wasn't doing something right," Bellamy declared, catching the pillow that Clarke had aimed at his head.

"It was… very nice. Like you could do any better," Clarke's tone was indignant, and she rolled her eyes to show just how unimpressed she was with Bellamy.

"Want to come over here and find out?" He asked, sending her a combination of a wink and a smirk that would have made any other girl melt on the spot.

"Oh, you wish Blake," Clarke shot back, sounding as irritated as ever.

"Gross- okay, enough of that," Octavia complained, hoping to remind the two of them that they weren't the only ones in the room. "So, you and Finn are a thing?"

"Yeah, I guess so- I mean, I kind of almost fell through the floor while we were making out, and then I practically ran away, but he did say that he actually likes me, which is more than most guys are willing to do," she said, throwing a pointed look over to Bellamy, who had thrown his head back and was laughing at the first part of her story.

"What are you looking at me for Princess?"

"No reason! It's just a nice change, you know? Meeting a guy who's willing to lay out his feelings and actually be serious for a change- I just know that's not really your style," she said, the sly look she gave him making it obvious that she was trying to make him mad.

"Oh Princess, you couldn't handle my style," he said, to the disgust of Octavia, who had started making gagging noises.

"Really, Bell- I don't talk about my sex-life around you, so could you tone it down? You're killing me."

"As long as you let me go on pretending that you don't have a sex-life then you've got yourself a deal," he groaned, hoping he would never have to hear his little sister say the words 'sex –life' again.

"Anyways, I was hoping to go to bed now," Clarke sent another pointed look in Bellamy's direction, attempting to hint that he should leave.

"By all means, don't let me stop you," he said, not moving from his position on her bed.

Choosing to ignore him, she looked over to Octavia. "So, how good is Lincoln in bed?"

"Nope, okay, you win, I'm leaving," Bellamy jumped up and headed towards the door while making a show of covering his ears.

Just as he was about to leave, he remember a matter of business that he actually had to discuss. "Oh, by the way Clarke, Jaha's making me drive into town tomorrow to pick up a new counsellor, so if you still need those extra art supplies you should probably just come with me."

"An hour in a car with you? Sounds like heaven," Clarke groaned.

"Well, you can always send me with a list of supplies, but I can pretty much guarantee you that I'd mess it up," he advised.

"Yeah, I suppose that's true. What time are you leaving?"

"The girls bus gets in at 1, so I was thinking we'd leave at 11? That should give you time to get what you need, and then we can grab something for lunch, pick her up, and head back?"

"Okay, I'll see you then!" She said, as she grabbed a bag of toiletries and headed for the bathroom.

"Goodnight Princess," he called after her as she disappeared, before looking back at his sister who had a strange, rather pensive look on her face. "What?"

"Oh, nothing," the younger girl said. "Goodnight Bell!"

"Goodnight O," Bellamy called over his shoulder as he left the cabin, attempting to shake off the general feeling of distaste that had overcome him after hearing about Clarke's activities that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Flarke is yucky and gross, and it honestly hurt me to write... But I promise, it's almost over so just hold on for like 1 more chapter and it will all be okay, I promise!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only thing I love more than your reviews is your blatant hatred for Finn/Flarke! Bellarke is coming, I promise!

"Hey Blake, you ready to go?" Clarke called out to Bellamy as she pushed open his cabin door and stepped inside.

"Jesus, Princess, ever heard of knocking?" He complained, coming out of his bathroom.

"Ever heard of a t-shirt?" She shot back, gesturing to his bare chest while trying to ignore the fact that it was more than a little impressive.

"What, too distracting for you?" He asked, his eyes lighting up and his trademark smirk taking over his face when he saw her cheeks turn a faint shade of red.

Rolling her eyes, she chose to ignore that comment. "Did you want to take one of the camps cars, or can I just drive us in mine?"

"No way are you driving me anywhere- O told me about your little accident," he said, ruffling through a pile of clothing and pulling out an old camp shirt that he apparently deemed clean enough.

"Okay, first of all, that was years ago- I was 16. And secondly, what was I supposed to do? Just hit the poor dog?" She defended herself, slightly embarrassed of the incident but not wanting to show it.

"That's how just justify driving into a tree? Didn't you break your arm?"

"It was my wrist, and it wasn't that bad," she huffed, moving out of the way as he left the cabin and began walking towards the main offices.

"Oh, well in that case," he said sarcastically. "I'm driving. I've got to go talk to Jaha before we leave… I'll meet you in the parking lot?"

*******

Ten minutes later Clarke found herself in the passenger seat of an old, white van, lounging back with her feet sticking out the window and sunglasses perched on her nose. Ignoring the dramatic sigh that Bellamy let out and the irritated looks he was throwing her way, she turned up the radio and opened a large bag of chips.

"You do realize it's only an hour drive, don't you?" He asked, glancing over at her skeptically before putting on his own sunglasses.

"So? It's still a road trip," she called out over the music which she had turned even louder.

"Fine, but the number one rule of every road trip is that the driver gets to pick the music," he exclaimed as he reached over, changing the station to something that sounded suspiciously like Bon Jovi.

"Living On a Prayer? Really?" She protested, trying not to show the emotion that overcame her as the song brought back memories she had long since tried to supress.

"Come on, Princess, it's a classic," he said cheerily, singing along for a few lines before he fell silent, noticing the way Clarke was trying to hide her fallen expression.

After a few seconds she realized that he had stopped singing and seemed rather concerned for her.

"My dad loved this music. It's all we'd listen to whenever we drove up here. He even dragged me and my mom to a Bon Jovi concert once," she laughed at that, but the sound didn't carry any humour. "This was on the radio when we got in the accident."

She heard Bellamy let out a deep breath at that, and saw his hand twitch on the steering wheel, as if he wanted to comfort her but then thought better of it.

Finally, he spoke. "Well then, your dad had damn good taste in music."

At that she really did laugh, causing a small, relieved smile to appear on Bellamy's face. Usually talking about her father made people uncomfortable, to the point where they would either avoid the topic altogether, or end up offering her unwanted pieces of advice, telling her 'it gets better,' and whatnot. Of course, Bellamy would be the one to avoid the awkwardness.

"Well, you and him did always get along so well- I'm not surprised you have the same taste in music," Clarke shook her head lightly at that, not bothering to hide her amusement.

"He was a great guy- You really couldn't have asked for a better father," Bellamy said, and then, almost as an afterthought, added, "He'd be proud of you, you know?"

It was something that Clare had gotten used to hearing, but for some reason it seemed bigger and more important when Bellamy said it, and that terrified her. "He'd be proud of you too- I mean, with your whole law school thing, and O's going to college, and everything… You were like the son he never had. Well, you and Wells were."

Clarke realized then that, for the first time, she had been able to mention Wells without feeling the need to end the conversation immediately. Sure, talking about him was still hard, but for some reason she felt better about it than she had.

Bellamy smiled at that and Clarke was positive that he noticed the change in her demeanor, but was relieved when he didn't say anything, instead choosing to change the subject completely.

"Ever heard of sharing?" He asked jokingly, gesturing towards the bag of chips in her lap.

"Come on Blake, it's only an hour drive," she mocked, repeating his previous words but not protesting when he reached over and grabbed a handful of chips anyways.

They spent the rest of the ride like that, falling into a comfortable dialogue composed of their usual bickering, though occasionally Clarke would turn the radio up and sing along to a song she recognized, but for the most part they drove in a comfortable silence that made Clarke wonder when Bellamy Blake had become one of her favourite people to spend time with.

When they finally arrived in town Bellamy parked in front of the art store, The Tree of Life. Clarke hesitated before getting out of the van, remembering all of the times she had been there before.

"Are you coming in?" She asked Bellamy, mostly just as a way of stalling; she knew he couldn't care less about art supplies.

"I'll just wait here," he said, stretching in his seat, but he seemed to change his mind when he looked over at Clarke and saw the nervous look on her face. "Unless you need my help with anything?"

She came close to taking him up on that offer, but then quickly pulled herself together. "No, I'll be fine- the stuff's already been ordered, I just need to grab it really quickly."

"Okay," he said, though Clarke could tell he didn't quite believe her. "Take your time."

Sending one last smile in his direction, she shut the door behind her and made her way into the shop, albeit a little bit slower than necessary. Walking inside was like being transported back to every single summer she could remember all at once, and it was only when she heard Vera Kane's voice calling out from somewhere in the back of the store that her trance-like state was broken.

She took a few seconds to compose herself before replying. "Hey Mrs. Kane!"

"Clarke Griffin, is that you?" She heard the women drop whatever box she had been holding and rush out to the front of the store. "Oh my lord, look at how you've grown!"

The older women had stopped right in front of her, wrapping her in the type of embrace that Clarke had been missing as of late. She didn't say anything back, but she did return the hug, hoping that it would convey her feelings.

When they pulled apart the Mrs. Kane looked like she was seeing a ghost, and from what Clarke was feeling she knew that she didn't look much better. "It is so good to see you, darling. How are you?"

"Good, good, it's good to see you too," she replied, looking anywhere but into the women's eyes.

"Oh, none of that, now. I heard about Wells, and I know how hard that must be for you- why, that boy used to follow you everywhere! I remember, he would drag his father in here every year a couple of days before your birthday and, well, anyways, how are you, dear?"

"I'll be fine, I will be," Clarke said, though her voice sounded shaky even to her own ears. "It's just hard sometimes."

"I know darling, I know. He was a good boy," she said sympathetically and, while Clarke would have hated to hear it from anybody else, Mrs. Kane was like a grandmother to her and she couldn't help but feel comforted by her words. "Your dad would be so proud of you."

"Yeah, there's been a lot of that going around lately," she chuckled, thinking back to her earlier conversation with Bellamy, and attempting to brush it off.

Mrs. Kane could clearly tell that Clarke wasn't enjoying the conversation, so she changed the subject, whisking her further into the store. "Come on now, let's go find you what you need."

*******

Bellamy had waited in the car for a couple of minutes but got bored pretty quickly, which is how he found himself leaning against the front bumper when Clarke came staggering out of the store with a large pile of boxes in her arms.

"I thought you said you'd be fine on your own!" He exclaimed as he rushed to help her, taking the pile out of her hands.

"I was!" She protested, though she didn't bother complaining when she was no longer holding them.

"Okay Princess, whatever you say," he patronized, dropping the boxes into the trunk of the van that she had opened for him. "Didn't you get anything for yourself?"

"Oh yeah, no, I don't really paint anymore…" She trailed off, looking away from him.

For as long as he had known her, Clarke had loved painting. He remembered watching her come back from her trips to town with new supplies, and seeing her run about camp covered in paint, and all of the times he had found her holed up in the art room working on some project or another, which is why he simply couldn't bring himself to leave it alone.

"Oh, really? Why is that?" At the annoyed look she gave him he knew he had struck a nerve, but he kept pushing her. "You love painting."

"Yeah, well, not anymore," she said, turning away from him.

"So you just stopped? No reason?" She paused at that, but didn't turn around for several seconds, and when she did Bellamy began to think that he might have pushed just a little bit too hard.

"What do you want me to say?" She asked in a voice that was colder than he'd ever heard her use. "That it reminds me too much of my dead father? Or of my dead best friend? Or that I used to paint the things that make me happy, but now I can barely remember what those are?"

"Clarke, I…" He was going to apologize, but stopped himself, realizing that she needed to talk about it, and that he was likely the first person to push her in a very long time.

"I just can't do it Bellamy, not now. It's just too hard." The look of defeat on her face left him feeling crushed.

"Okay, Princess," he said sympathetically, knowing that the conversation had ended, but vowing to bring it up later. "Do you want to grab lunch?" He asked, receiving a grateful look from her in the process.

"Yeah, food would be good- there's a diner down the street we could walk to?" Nothing unnerved him more than how quickly she could put up her walls and pretend to be fine, and he had to once again remind himself that now wasn't the time to have that conversation.

"Lead the way!"

They ate at a small diner, talking rather peacefully the whole time. When it came to Clarke, Bellamy was used to either being at her throat in a vicious argument, teasing her, or a strange combination of the two, but he found that normal conversation was just as enjoyable. He could tell that she was somewhat distracted, but realized that it was likely because her, her father, and Wells used to frequent the diner they were at, so he also let that go. He knew Clarke was strong, but he couldn't fathom how difficult the summer had to be for her.

When it came time to pick up the new counsellor, they drove to the bus station and Bellamy opted to wait in the van while Clarke went in to find her. He was busy adjusting the radio when he heard the door open behind him, and he turned to see a gorgeous girl with long dark hair olive colored skin getting in the seat behind him.

"Hey, I'm Raven," she said, reaching around the seat to shake his hand despite the awkward angle.

"Bellamy Blake," he said, returning the hand shake, noticing how firm her grip was.

"Yeah, Clarke was just telling me all about you." The mischievous look that she sent the other girl was enough to cause him to roll his eyes, turning his gaze to Clarke.

"Of course she was," he said sarcastically, and while he tried to look stern, he wasn't able to hide the smile that took over his face when he saw the innocent look she was giving him.

"So you're the head counsellor? That makes you my boss?" Raven asked, continuing the conversation as Bellamy pulled out of the parking lot.

"Yeah, pretty much," he said, ignoring the snort Clarke let out. "Jaha's the one who's really in charge, and there are a bunch of other people higher up, but you'll mostly just answer to me."

"Yeah, have fun with that," Clarke threw in and, despite her somewhat malicious words, he knew by her tone that she was teasing.

"We can't all own the place like our Princess does," he said, knowing that he was one of the few people who could get away with teasing her about that topic.

Raven seemed amused by their exchange, and couldn't help but laughing. "So, how long have you two been together?" She asked, baffling both of them.

Clarke was the first to respond when she burst out laughing which, for some reason, left Bellamy feeling more than a little annoyed. At the confused look Raven sent her, Bellamy felt the need to clarify. "We aren't together."

"What?" Raven asked, sounding somewhat embarrassed about her assumption. "God, I'm sorry… You guys just act like an old married couple- I guess I just assumed…"

Ignoring Clarke, who had started laughing again, Bellamy responded, "Nope. Princess here's got a Prince Charming back at camp, and I'm quite happy living a more single oriented lifestyle."

"That's cool," Raven said, accepting what he told her. "My boyfriend actually works at Camp Ark- that's what gave me the idea to apply; we don't really see each other during the year, so I thought it'd be nice to surprise him this summer!"

"That's so sweet!" Clarke gushed, apparently having gotten over her previous hysteria. "What's his name? We probably know him."

"Finn Collins? It's his first year working there, but…" Raven kept talking, but Bellamy stopped listening, instead focusing on the girl sitting beside him.

Clarke's eyes had grown wider than he'd ever seen them and her mouth had formed a small tight line, which is all he saw before she turned her face towards the window so that she didn't give anything else away. Her posture had stiffened to the point where Bellamy wasn't sure if she was breathing, so he was completely surprised when, after Raven finished talking, Clarke spoke.

"How long have you guys been together?" Most people wouldn't be able to tell that something was off, but when it came to Clarke, Bellamy really wasn't most people. Her tone was slightly colder than it had been before, and the question sounded suspiciously like a loaded gun.

"Pretty much forever- it's all pretty stereotypical, you know? I was the girl next door and he would always come rescue me when my parents were fighting… the usual," she said, not noticing a change in the air.

"Wow, you guys must really love each other," Clarke said, in a voice that sounded openly defeated.

"Yeah, we really do," Raven sighed happily, though through the mirror Bellamy could see the concerned look she was giving Clarke. "Bellamy mentioned you have a boyfriend?"

"Oh, you know…" She trailed off, continuing when nobody in the van responded. "Our relationship is probably nothing compared to yours."

The look on Clarke's face paired with the sadness in her voice was enough to end the conversation. Bellamy spent the rest of the ride looking at Clarke out of the corner of his eye, but she had pulled her sunglasses down over her face and was making a point not to made eye contact with either of them. Shortly after the conversation finished, she had turned the radio up, to the point where if somebody had wanted to talk, they would have had to yell, and Bellamy really didn't blame her, so he ignored the confused looks that Raven sent his way.

He had seen Clarke upset before, but that had mostly just involved funerals, and there hadn't really been anything he could do to help. Fortunately that wasn't the case here, so when sitting around and trying to figure out if Clarke was alright became too much for him, he proceeded to spend the rest of the drive planning all of the different ways he could kill Finn Collins.


	8. Chapter 8

"Thanks for the ride!" Raven directed towards Bellamy, having long since given up talking to Clarke. "It was nice to meet you guys."

"Just doing my job," Bellamy replied gruffly when Clarke, unsurprisingly, ignored her altogether. A few seconds passed before he seemed to realize how rude he and Clarke had been to the girl, so he added, "But it was nice to meet you too."

"Yeah…" Raven sounded unconvinced. "Well, I'm going to go find Finn!" She smiled, taking her bags from the trunk and turning to walk away.

"Say hi to him for us!" Bellamy called after her in a voice dripping with contentment, before turning to face Clarke, who was still sitting in the passenger's seat looking straight ahead. "So, that was fun."

"I didn't know… If I had known I wouldn't have…" She grappled with her words, trying desperately not to sound as guilty as she felt.

"What are you talking about? Of course you didn't know, Clarke, god," Bellamy brushed her off, not surprised that she would blame herself, but upset about it nonetheless.

She was relieved to hear that, and took a few seconds to think over what to do next. "Don't tell anybody, alright?" She finally asked, realizing that only a few people at camp actually knew about their relationship (if you could call it that), and that it would probably be best to keep it that way.

"Fine," Bellamy said, though the hesitation in his voice was enough to worry Clarke.

"Bellamy, I'm serious. Just let me figure this out, okay?" She pleaded, hoping that he would fall for her batting eyelashes and that they could prevent him from carrying out his own brand of justice on Finn; she'd heard stories of what he'd done to Octavia's ex's and knew enough to be wary.

"What's there to figure out?" He snapped, no longer trying to hide his blatant anger. "You know, I could talk to him for you…"

At that, Clarke turned sideways in her seat to face Bellamy, but didn't say anything until he looked her in the eye. "Bellamy. Stay away from him. Do not do anything. Do not say anything. Nod once if you understand," she instructed firmly, giving him no room to argue.

He raised his eyebrows at her, as if to ask if she was serious, but she just continued to look at him expectantly, giving him no choice but to eventually nod his head, though he still didn't bother to hide his skepticism.

"Thank you," she said earnestly, after studying his face intensely and deciding that she could trust him. The relief that washed over her then was only rivaled by the exhaustion that suddenly overtook her. "Hey, do you mind unloading the art supplies? I'll organize everything tomorrow; I just don't want to run into, well, anyone, really."

"Yeah, I can do that," Bellamy nodded, leaning his head back against the seat and watching Clarke leave. "But you know you can't avoid them forever, right?"

Shutting the door, Clarke turned around and leaned through the open window, attempted to hide the bitterness that she suspected was seeping through her pours. "I can try," she joked, once again turning to leave but being stopped by Bellamy who had leaned across the seat and grabbed her arm, forcing her to stay where she was.

"You also know that you deserve better then him, right?" The honesty in his voice startled her, but the longer she studied his face the more she believed him. There was something else there too, and she could tell that he wasn't just being nice, but she shook that feeling off immediately.

Clarke didn't bother thanking him because she knew it wasn't what he was looking for. Instead, she simply smiled at him through pursed lips, nodding her head once before pulling away, running her hand over the spot on her arm where his used to be, and telling herself that she didn't miss their contact as she walked away. 

*****

After she had left Bellamy, Clarke had gone to her cabin immediately. Upon arriving there, she grabbed her iPod, turned her saddest playlist on as loud as it would go, and collapsed on her bed in a miserable pile of regret, drifting in and out of consciousness, which is how Octavia found her a couple of hours later.

She heard her friend walk in, but ignored her completely as she turned off the music, turned on the lights, and lay down on her stomach beside her. After Octavia had been there for a few minutes, Clarke realized that she probably wouldn't leave until they had talked, so she turned her face to look at the other girl.

"Hey," she said, sounding resigned even to her own ears.

"Hey," Octavia smiled sympathetically.

"He never mentioned her," she tried to explain, knowing that Octavia would follow her train of thought and desperately hoping that she would understand.

"I know, honey," Octavia said in a soothing voice, relieving Clarke of some her guilt in the process. "We all know."

"What do you mean, 'we all,'" Clarke asked skeptically, knowing that Octavia and Bellamy were the only ones who knew about her and Finn's 'relationship,' but becoming worried when she saw guilt flash across her friends face.

"Well," she said, rolling onto her back to avoid looking at Clarke. "I was sitting in the mess hall with Jas and Monty and Miller, and all of a sudden I see this girl walk up to Finn and start making out with him. I was surprised, to say the least, and I didn't exactly do the best job of hiding it…"

"You made a scene?" Clarke groaned, praying that she hadn't confronted them.

"Of course not! Who do you think I am?" Octavia tried to sound offending, eventually giving up and confessing. "Okay, I was going to… Like, I was marching over to them and everything, but then Bellamy showed up out of nowhere and stopped me. He practically dragged me outside and started telling me off about how 'it's none of my business'- which it so is, by the way, you're my best friend- and anyways, it turns out the rest of the guys had followed us outside and heard everything so, yeah."

Octavia took Clarke's lack of a response as an invitation to keep talking. "But, I mean, not that many people know, and the guys won't tell anybody… Like, Jasper and Monty are probably going to poison him or set him on fire or something, and Miller and Bellamy both looked ready to kill somebody, and same with Lincoln (sorry, I had to tell him), but they won't go around gossiping about it or anything."

"I know," Clarke mumbled, knowing that her friends meant well and not having enough energy to act more upset that she already was. "Can we not talk about this anymore?"

"Clarke, I love you but there's no way I'm just going to let you stay here and listen to your stupidly depressing music- I mean, Wrecking Ball? Really? You've got to do something, or at least talk about it."

"Just let me wallow," she begged, happy to revel in feelings of self-pity.

"Nope. You're better then him, and you're not going to waste your time wallowing over some piece-of-shit two-timing dickhead with a superiority complex," she said determinedly, standing up and attempting to pull Clarke with her. "Get up."

"Nooooooo," Clarke flopped back on the bed the second Octavia let go.

"Clarke Griffin, if you do not sit up this very second I am going to get my brother in here, and he's going have no problem dragging your sorry ass out of this goddamn bed. Or better yet, I'll get him to drag Finn in here and the three of us can have a go at him," Octavia threatened.

"You wouldn't," Clarke protested, the evil glint in Octavia's eye telling her otherwise.

"Do you really want to test that theory?" Octavia asked in a fake-sweet voice, smiling politely before moving towards the door.

"What do you want me to do, O?" Clarke gave in, sitting up but bringing the blankets wrapped around her shoulder with her, and not making a move to get out of the bed.

"Look alive, for starters! Pretend it doesn't bother you, and show him what he's missing! And do not, for a second, even think about forgiving him. He's the idiot here- just remember that and you'll be fine!"

"You make it sound easy," Clarke sighed, almost lying back down before remembering the threats and deciding it wasn't worth the risk.

"It isn't, but it will be eventually. And until then," Octavia trailed off, pressing play on the iPod that had made its way into her hand and sending Clarke a sly look as 'I Will Survive' started blasting through their speakers.

Clarke couldn't help but laugh at her friends antics, chuckling at the performance she gave her. By the time it got to the chorus, both girls were standing up, dancing and singing dramatically into pretend microphones.

Their impromptu karaoke marathon continued on but was eventually interrupted by Raven, who walked through the door unnoticed while Clarke was standing on her bed in the middle of a heartfelt version of 'Before He Cheats.' She stopped the second she saw the other girl, and Octavia paused the music when she realized what was happening.

"Hey," Raven said, breaking the tense silence that the three girls were standing in. "Jaha said you had an empty bed?"

"Yeah," Clarke said, out of breath and wide eyed, gesturing towards it. "It's all yours."

"Cool," she walked towards it before stopping in the middle of the room and abruptly facing Clarke. "I get the feeling you don't like me. Would you mind at least telling me why?"

"I don't… I don't know what you're talking about…" Clarke stuttered, surprised by her straightforward attitude.

"Right," Raven laughed, raising her voice slightly. "See, I thought it might be because you made out with my boyfriend, but whatever you say."

Clarke opened her mouth but had no idea what to say, which is how she found herself standing on her bed, mouth gaping, trying to figure out if she was about to get slapped.

Despite Clarke's fears, Raven just looked at her steadily, waiting for a reply that clearly wasn't coming, before Octavia finally stepped in. "Okay, hi, it's nice to meet you, I'm Octavia- Clarke's best friend. You seem alright, but your boyfriend is a dick."

"Octavia," Clarke yelled, before realizing that Raven had nodded her head in agreement, and seemed to relax slightly at the other girls statement.

"What, Clarke? It's true and we'd already established it, and I'm pretty sure that if anybody could possibly agree with you more, it'd be Raven," she said logically, sitting down on her bed and looking between the girls. "And seeing as how Raven hasn't disagreed with anything I've said yet, I'm pretty sure I'm on the right track."

That was enough to get Clarke to pause for a second and actually think about what was going on. Raven hadn't come in yelling and screaming, she hadn't proposed that they fight to the death, and, aside from the big reveal, she was being pretty decent. She realized then that they were likely on the same side.

"Wait, how'd you find out?" Clarke asked after a moment of silence, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"Please," Raven scoffed, rolling her eyes, "I've known Finn my whole life- I can tell when he feels guilty, and after you went all silent in the car and Octavia here practically ripped my head off in the mess hall it wasn't very difficult to piece everything together."

Octavia winced and apologized, while Clarke simply stared at Raven with a blank expression on her face, eventually prompting her to continue.

"Okay, so I didn't know for sure, but your karaoke gave it away," she admitted sheepishly.

With everything out in the open, Clarke felt the guilt creep back up. "Look Raven, I really am sorry- I swear to god, he never mentioned you," she said, before realizing how upsetting that likely was for Raven to hear.

"It's fine. I mean, I considered slapping you at first, but it's fine," she said, finally leaving her spot in the middle of the room and dropping her bags by a bed before collapsing on top of it.

Surprised at how things had unfolded, Clarke looked over at Octavia, who simply shrugged, prompting her to follow the lead of the other two girls by flopping onto her mattress.

It seemed like they were all lost in their own worlds, until Octavia spoke up. "So, what are we going to do about Finn?"

"What do you mean?" Clarke had realized that she would probably have to confront Finn, and that Raven would likely want to do the same, but Octavia seemed to think it was a group activity.

"You can't just let him get away with it!" Octavia exclaimed, sitting up and trying to motivate her two scorned friends, who were currently lying down, apparently attempting to be engulfed by their mattresses. "I know you guys feel like shit right now, but just think how much fun revenge could be!"

"What do you have in mind?" Raven asked, propping herself up on an elbow and looking interested in Octavia's plan and, despite Clarke's initial hesitation, she couldn't help but feel excited about the diabolical looks now gracing each of their faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for how long this update took- I'm back in school now, which unfortunately means I have responsibilities outside of writing Bellarke fanfic :(  
> That being said, I'm almost done the next chapter, so that'll be up soon!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not exaggerating when I say that I wrote 7 different versions of this chapter before I was even remotely happy with how it looked, and I'm still not 100% satisfied but I figured I should probably just post this and move on with the story, so here goes nothing!

Luring Finn out into the woods was the easiest part of their plan. All Clarke had to do was sneak into his cabin while he was at lunch and leave a note on his bed saying, 'Meet me at the tree house at dark, I still want to make this work.' All of the girls had agreed that the message carried just the right amount of nostalgia mixed with promise that would make it irresistible to Finn.

The only part of the plan that had actually been difficult was picking out their outfits. Octavia, Raven, and all of the guys they had convinced to help got to wear all black, and Lincoln had even supplied face paint, making them look like secret agents, or something. Of course, Clarke didn't get to do any of that. She was stuck wearing the shortest pair of shorts any of them owned, as well as a tiny bikini top that was barely covered by a loose, white crop top, hoping that she would work well as bait.

As she left her cabin with Octavia and Raven's encouragement in the background, she had to remind herself that, if everything went according to plan, the outfit would be worth it. With that in mind, she began to feel slightly better when she got to her destination, leaning against the tree and waiting for Finn to show up. She had gotten there early to ensure that everything was prepared and, upon looking up at the fort and seeing Jasper's head poke out and wave down at her, she began to believe that her hard work had paid off.

Keeping in mind that all of her friends were around, Clarke wasn't overly startled to hear somebody come walking up behind her, though she couldn't help but flinch when Finn appeared in front of her, stepping closer than necessary and leaning down for a kiss.

"Finn, I-" she stuttered before he could do anything, not having prepared for him to be so forward.

"I got the note, I thought that meant we're cool," he said, realization dawning on his face. "Unless you were just lying to get me out here?"

Clarke hadn't counted on him guessing their plan so quickly, so she took a deep breath and channeled her best acting skills before she continued. "No Finn, that's not it at all. I really want to believe that we can still be together, but we've got to talk, okay? You've got to be more honest with me."

"You're right, Clarke, I'm so sorry about all of this," he sighed, sounding too sincere for her liking. "You deserve so much better, and if you just give me a chance I'll show you. Things are complicated with Raven, but you and I have something special."

She paused there, and was just beginning to feel guilty about their plan for revenge when Jasper made his move. A malicious scratching noise came from the tree fort, making Clarke jump even though she'd been expecting it.

"What was that?" She asked, her voice sounding harsher than she'd intended, which she hoped would contribute to the overall affect.

"Probably just an animal," Finn reassured her, but seconds later Jasper started up again, this time also shuffling his feet, making it clear that whatever it was, it was bigger than most of the animals found in their forest.

"Somebody's up there," Clarke whispered, grabbing his arm and darted her gaze around sharply, hoping that Finn would mistake the excitement dancing through her eyes for fear.

"You want to head back?" He sounded hesitant, which Clarke took as a sign that their plan was working.

Clarke pretended to consider that for a few seconds, before she shrugged. "You're probably right about it being nothing- we could just keep walking?"

He nodded in agreement, and Clarke let Finn lead her the short distance back to the path before he grabbed her hand and they continued down it side by side. Just as Clarke noticed Finn starting to relax beside her a twig snapped behind them and, whether or not it was intentional, it was enough to put him back on guard. When the trees around them continued to rustle, it took everything in her for Clarke not to burst out laughing, both at her friends' antics and at Finn's response to them.

"Clarke, you hear that, right?" He looked around nervously, seemingly questioning his own sanity.

"What, the trees?" Clarke feigned innocence.

"It sounds like somebody's following us," he insisted, stopping and keeping a firm grip on her hand that he still held, forcing her to stop walking as well.

As planned, the second they stopped moving all of the noises stopped too. Clarke made a show of listening to what was going on around them, before raising her eyebrows in a way that clearly indicated she didn't hear anything, hopefully making him feel stupid in the process.

He sighed then, apparently giving up, and they were about to start walking again when a different noise filled the forest. At first it was the quiet sound of something tapping meticulously to a repetitive beat, but then it picked up, seemingly coming from all around them.

Clarke looked up at him then, hoping once again that he would buy into her fear. "What the fuck is that?"

"I don't know… It's got to be an animal or something…" He trailed off not sounding confident in his convictions but still listening intently. "It sounds like rocks or something…" He said, before realizing the implications behind those words.

"What," Clarke laughed uneasily, "You mean like in the story? Murphy's a legend- something to scare the kids with; he doesn't actually exist."

"You're right," he agreed, looking around one last time before turning back to her and going completely pale when he did. "Clarke, behind you." He stuttered, pointing to something vaguely in that direction.

Slowly twisting to look behind her, in the distance Clarke could see the silhouette of something that looked human, only much bigger. Making a show of being surprised, she stumbled into Finn, who grabbed her arms and looked down at her, as if he was waiting for direction. "RUN," she half shouted half gasped, pushing him backwards and causing him to stumble slightly, before he took the hint and bolted down the path they came, not giving Clarke a second glance in the procedd..

Clarke couldn't help but feel put-off at how quickly Finn ran form the danger and his willingness to leave her behind, but she brushed it off with a laugh, realizing that she had dodged a huge bullet.

The next part of their plan simply required her to go meet Raven and Finn at the end of the path for the final showdown, but she had figured she had a few minutes, wanting to give the two of them a little bit of time to themselves. Because of that, she decided to take the longer way back, and stepped into the forest, not particularly paying attention to anything when she ran directly into another person, who then broke her fall when they tumbled to the ground.

It took a couple of seconds for her to get her bearings, and when she did she realized that she was lying on top of the last person she had expected to see that night.

"Bellamy?" She asked, knowing that he hadn't played a part in their plan and had no good reason to be in the forest. "What are you doing here?"

"I should be asking you the same question," he hissed back, the venom in his voice stinging her more that she'd like to admit, as well as making her realize, once again, that she was still lying on top of him, in very, very little clothing.

"What are you talking about?" She treaded carefully, knowing that Bellamy could be downright mean when he was in one of his moods, which appeared to be the case.

"Nothing Clarke," he said, shaking his head and sitting up, shifting her so that she was on the ground beside him. Though his anger was obvious, she couldn't help but notice his eyes as they ran up and down her body, checking for injuries, before he once again looked at her face. Of course, their eye contact didn't last for very long, but as he stood up and began to walk away, he called out behind him, "I'm glad you and Finn sorted everything out, by the way."

"Bellamy Blake, I'm going to ask you one more time, what the fuck are you talking about?" Even though Clarke was still sitting on the ground where he had left her, Bellamy turned around at that and she realized that the ice in her own voice was likely only rivaled by the fire in his.

"You and your boyfriend got back together; I heard you guys talking. You're really stupid enough to think that he'll be honest with you? You really think he'll change?"

Clarke had been prepared to explain everything, but she forgot all of that the second he called her stupid. She saw red, and before she knew it she had moved from her spot on the ground and was standing right in front of him with a finger pointed at his chest.

"How dare you," she hissed, knowing that her murderous gaze was getting her point across, but wanting to yell at him anyways. "You eavesdrop on my private conversations, and then you come and find me just to judge me? You don't bother asking for my side of the story? What do you think I am, some stupid kid? I hate to break it to you Blake, but it's not up to you to tell me how to live my life."

"Well, somebody probably should! Jesus Clarke, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" He bellowed the last part, throwing his hands up in the air and moving so that he was even closer to her, looking down at her in a way that most people would find intimidating.

"THAT'S none of your business," Clarke laughed, honestly having no idea why they were even fighting, or why Bellamy cared to begin with, but not particularly caring anymore, instead just hoping that it would be over soon.

"LIKE HELL IT ISN'T." Bellamy grabbed her arm in a hold that was firm but not painful and spun her around, clearly having more to say to her. He took a visibly deep breath, calming down slightly before he started talking again. "Clarke, he doesn't deserve you. He's not a good guy, can't you see that? Look, if Wells or your dad were here-"

"No." Clarke said, not willing to listen to anything that came after that. "You don't get to tell me anything about them. They're not here anymore, so they don't have a say in what goes on in my life. And neither do you."

She pulled her arm out of his grasp at that, and continued to look into his eyes just long enough to see regret starting to form there, before she turned around and walked away, waiting until she was out of his line of sight before she started jogging.

*******

Bellamy regretted just about everything he had said to Clarke, but he wasn't left alone with his thoughts for very long. Hearing something rustle in the forest behind him, he turned around to find Octavia and Lincoln coming out from behind a tree and he groaned, realizing that they had likely heard everything.

"Way to go, Bell," Octavia said with sarcasm dripping from her voice, and irritation covering her face.

"What are you doing out here, O?" He asked, not bothering to hide how tired his voice suddenly sounded, and ignoring the man beside her entirely, choosing not to acknowledge the fact that they were holding hands.

"The same thing Clarke was doing. And Raven. And Jasper, Monty, and Miller, actually," she snapped, showing her protective side.

"What are y-" Bellamy started, not bothering to finish the thought when it occurred to him just how wrong he'd been in his accusations. "Fuck."

"Yeah," Octavia said, not showing any sympathy whatsoever. "She was setting up, not getting back together with him. God, do you really think Clarke would do that to somebody?"

"I don't know, O, she sounded pretty damn convincing," he said, sounding more and more frustrated and defensive by the second. "Fuck."

"Yeah, well you had better sound pretty damn convincing when you apologize to her."

"What?" That caught him off guard. He'd fought with Clarke tons of times before, but neither of them had ever apologized- both of them were too proud for that, so they would usually spend a few days sending each other bitter glances before eventually getting over it and never speaking of the topic again.

"You really think she's going to forget this any time soon, Bell? Really? You brought up Wells and her dad just to prove your point. You fucked up," she said bluntly. "You know, I love you and all, but I'm on Clarke's side for this one."

Instead of replying to that, Bellamy took a step back and leaned against a tree, putting his hands to his face and sighing into them. When he looked back up, Octavia was leading Lincoln past them, with Octavia ignoring him completely, while Lincoln gave him a sympathetic shrug that only served to make him feel worse about the fight he had started.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for how long this took to post! I'm currently in the middle of a downward spiral that has become my life and, as a result, writing this had kind of taken a back seat.  
> As always, your comments mean the world to me and your support gives me life, so thank you all, you beautiful people who keep reading this!

"You sure you two aren't hooking up?" Raven interrupted Clarke, who had zoned out of their conversation and was currently glaring at an equally annoyed looking Bellamy.

"I'm positive. In fact, I'd say I'm the only girl at this camp who hasn't hooked up with him," she bit back, breaking the eye contact that she'd been holding with the man and looking back at her friends who were sprawled out across a patch of grass in the sun.

"Okay, gross; that's my brother you're talking about," Octavia groaned, lying back and covering her face.

Clarke didn't show any sympathy, instead opting to send Bellamy one last glare before she turned away completely, hoping that it would end Raven's speculation.

"You really haven't talked to him for a week?" Octavia asked skeptically.

"Of course I haven't talked to him," Clarke defended herself, sounding more defensive than she had meant to. "He's the one who needs to apologize, not me."

"But he did apologize," Raven nudged, blocking the sun from her eyes and raising an eyebrow at her friend, "You just didn't listen."

"Well I shouldn't have to! He doesn't get to make ridiculous accusations and then claim that he's just looking out for me! And who does he think he is, talking to me about my dad? It's about time he realizes that he can't just do and say whatever he wants and get away with it," she said, her passion building up throughout her speech so that by the time she finished her face was red and she was angrier than she'd realized.

"Right," Raven nodded, not convincing anybody that she agreed with Clarke. "But no matter what you say, I've never seen a platonic relationship with as much passion as yours."

"Eww, no," Octavia whined, "We do not talk about my brother having 'passion' with people. Even if it is true."

"Octavia," Clarke screeched, surprised that the girl has switched sides. "What the hell?"

"What? I'm not blind," she shrugged, high fiving Raven while Clarke covered her face and mumbled incoherent things about betrayal and disgust.

Clarke was still busy muttering insults towards her friends who were rejoicing over their newfound agreement when a shadow fell over her.

"You okay there, Princess?" Bellamy Blake questioned, looking down at her with an amused look on his face.

"You're blocking my sun, Blake," she spat, keeping her eyes closed and attempting to ignore him otherwise.

"Well then I'm probably doing you a favor," he replied, crouching down beside her head. "We've all seen you after a day in the sun; a couple more minutes and you'd be burnt beyond recognition."

"I don't need any favors from you," she opened her eyes then, looking at Octavia and Raven who were both seemed surprised and disappointed at her harsh tone.

"Whatever you say, Clarke," Bellamy sighed, the use of her real name shocking Clarke into finally looking at him. When she did she saw a mixture of regret, exhaustion and apprehension that had piqued her interest, but he spoke again before she could. "Jaha wants to see us about a new project. Now."

She furrowed her brow and watched as he got up and walked away, waiting until he was a few feet away before turning to her friends for help.

"Have fun!" Octavia waved, not offering any advice and not seeming very troubled by the turn of events.

"Thanks," Clarke gave her best fake smile, rolling her eyes before she got up and followed Bellamy, keeping her distance behind him.

She arrived in the Camp Director's office a few minutes later to find that Bellamy was already there, occupying the half of the couch that she usually took. Deciding to pick and choose her battles, Clarke made a point of sitting in a chair that was off to the side of the room and ignoring Bellamy altogether while she greeted Jaha.

"Clarke, I trust everything's going well?" The older man asked casually, not acknowledging the obvious tension in the room.

"Everything's great," she smiled sweetly, not fooling anybody with her sugary attitude. "But you know, I really should be getting back to the Art Room; I've got a group coming in soon."

"I've seen your schedule Clarke, you've got 2 hours," Jaha chuckled, smiling slightly at her attempt to escape. "But I won't keep you for long; I just wanted to talk to the two of you about a project."

"I'm happy to help with anything," Bellamy jumped in then, throwing Clarke his usual smirk when Jaha nodded his head at him appreciatively.

"That's the kind of attitude I like to see," Jaha smiled, causing Clarke to scoff and roll her eyes once again, gaining a disapproving look from the director.

"What's the project?" She asked, wanting to cut straight to the point.

"Over the past few years we've really let certain aspects of this place go," Jaha began, sounding as if he'd practice the speech beforehand. "Obviously we can't make any huge changes, but if we start with the little things eventually we'll get everything back up to calibre."

"What, like plumbing and stuff?" Clarke didn't know where Jaha was going, but she wasn't sure she liked it. "What does that have to do with us?"

"No, not exactly," he replied, before cutting to the chase. "The two of you are going to work together to repaint the murals around camp. I was thinking you could start with the one on the pool house, and then the one on the supplies building, and then finish up with the one in the mess hall. You'll have to run your designs by me, of course, but I expect you'll both excel at this."

"With all due respect sir, I don't know anything about painting," Bellamy stated the obvious, breaking the silence filled with disbelief that had fallen after Jaha's announcement.

"But Clarke does. The two of you work well together; I'm sure you'll figure something out," he countered, not looking particularly bothered by the clear displeasure Bellamy and Clarke were showing.

"No, actually I don't," Clarke spoke then, laughing in disbelief. "I don't paint anymore, and you know it. I don't do any of that stuff."

"Well then it's about time you start again," Jaha said frankly, looking Clarke in the eye and showing no sign that he planned on backing off. "You've spent the past month teaching kids art. You've seen how much they enjoy it; surely it's reminded you of the same thing."

"You don't get to do this," she objected, her voice rising in what sounded like thinly veiled panic. "You can't make me do this."

"Clarke, I'm not making you do anything," he sighed. "You don't have to paint if you don't want to; just design with murals with Bellamy's help and get the kids to do the rest. Hell, get the kids to design them, I don't care. Just make them look good."

"That's it?" She asked tentatively, resigning herself to her new job.

"That's it. I trust that the two of you will do a good job," he finished, and when neither of them spoke up he dismissed them with a wave of his hand.

Clarke was the first to stand up, ignoring the surprised and slightly terrified look on Bellamy's face and racing out the door, hoping that she could escape before he caught up with her. Of course, luck had never been on her side so she wasn't surprised when she heard footsteps catching up to her just before she'd reached the front door of the building.

"You're still ignoring me, Princess? Won't that make it a difficult to work together?" Bellamy fell into step beside her, opening the door when they reached it.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she feigned ignorance but didn't have it in her to throw in a smile.

"Clarke, I've apologized five times; I'm not going to do it again," he argued. "This is just you being stubborn, and I know that but it's getting old pretty fast."

"Fine, Bellamy, you're forgiven," she snapped, stopping and pivoting so that she was standing in front of him, narrowly avoiding a collision. "Happy?"

"Ecstatic," he deadpanned, narrowing his eyes and looking ready for a fight. "You ready to work on these murals?"

"We've been working together for the past four years and my feelings towards you haven't gotten in the way before; I don't see why that'll change now." When she saw the corner of his lips turn up she realized how her words sounded and regretted them instantly.

"And what exactly are those feelings, Princess?" He put his hands on his hips and leaned his head down so that it was a little bit closer to hers, raising his eyebrows as a smirk took over his face completely.

It was then that Clarke realized just how close together they were standing, and just how flustered she was becoming. However, she was never one to back away from a challenge, so she leaned closer to him, tilting her face up towards his, looking him directly in the eye while she was doing it. She was incredibly aware of the electricity sparking between them, and when his eyes flickered down to her lips she knew that Bellamy was too. It was only when his tongue darted out to lick his lips that Clarke took mercy on him.

"Oh, nothing," she gloated, grinning at the way his face fell, but feeling slightly disappointed despite her apparent victory.

Clarke could tell the second that Bellamy realized what was happening, when his eyes turned cold and his features all hardened slightly. To anybody else it would have been impossible to notice, but with how close they were standing and their uncanny ability to read each other, Clarke could tell that he felt the disappointment too. That revelation was altogether too much for her to process, so she broke the eye contact they were still holding, and spun around, meaning to walk away without another word. Of course, Bellamy could never just leave things alone, so she wasn't surprised when she felt him grab her arm and tug her back towards him.

"You really want to play this game, Princess?" He hissed, showing more emotions that she had expected. "Fine. But you don't get to take your anger out on me. I am not your punching bad."

"Bellamy, I-" Clarke began to protest, stopping midsentence when she realized that she had no idea what she was going to say. Instead she sighed, her shoulders sinking and her whole body relaxing when she looked up at him and realized that he wasn't necessarily angry; just frustrated. "You're right."

His features softened at that, and while he wasn't smiling he did look incredibly relieved. "What else is new?" He joked easily, and Clarke was relieved that he didn't push her on the topic.

"Yeah, yeah, don't get used to it," she tried to hide the smile that was forcing its way out, turning her face away from him and shaking her head.

"Come on now Princess, it's about time you recognize my genius," he continued, falling back into their usual banter with an ease that finally made her feel like things were right again.

"Is that what you're calling it these days?" The asked, groaning when his only response was a wink that would likely made lesser people swoon for days. "God," she scoffed.

"I actually go by Bellamy, but call me what you like," he smirked, and despite his cheesy behaviour Clarke threw her head back laughing.

"That's enough out of you," she commended, turning to walk towards the Art Building and feeling a slight flutter in her chest when he once again fell into step beside her.

"So, the murals?"

"What about them?" Clarke sighed.

"How are we going to do this?" He asked.

"I was thinking I'd ask the kids in my classes to brainstorm some ideas, and see what they come up with. Once they do that I'll go check out the buildings and see what we're working with," she planned, not looking forward to the work they would be doing and hoping to get it done in the least hands-on way possible.

"That sounds good," he agreed, though sounding somewhat hesitant. "Is there anything I can do?"

"When it comes time to actually paint them you can organize the supplies and help supervise the kids, but I think I've got it for now," she smiled, turning to face him when they came to a stop in front of the art building. "I'll let you know what they come up with."

"Alright," he nodded, still sounding more reserved than usual. "And you're sure you're okay with this whole thing?"

"I'll be fine," she smiled tightly, looking away for a distraction. "It's just a few murals; how hard can it be?"

"That's not what I meant, Clarke," he pushed, trying to catch her eye.

"I know," she looked back at him, letting out a deep breath when she saw just how much worry was laced into his expression.

She didn't say anything else and neither did he, but he continued searching her face until he finally nodded, as if he had found something that she didn't know was there.

"Okay," he complied, reaching out a hand and gently placing it on her shoulder, as if he was trying to communicate something that he didn't want to say. "I'll see you around, Princess."


	11. Chapter 11

It was midafternoon a couple of days after Clarke and Bellamy had reconciled when Clarke had decided that it was about time she actually got started on one of the murals. She had spoken to her campers and together they had all compiled a long list of ideas, which she had then shortened and was now attempting to choose from.

She had spent some time trying to go over it in the art room before deciding that she would likely be able to draw more inspiration from actually seeing the work that needed to be done. And fresh air never hurt. And she definitely wasn't procrastinating.

She'd figured that for the mural on the pool house they'd go with something typical; probably involving the ocean and fish, making it simple enough that the younger campers could help out. She had absolutely no idea how they would tackle the one in the mess hall, which left her heading out to the outdoors equipment shed to see what ideas she came up with there.

Just as she was settling down, leaning against a tree and starting to work, Octavia led a group of campers out of the large shed, each armed with something that looked suspiciously like crossbows. She leaned forward in her seat to get a better look, which was when Octavia spotted her and began to wave frantically. Clarke lifted her hand in acknowledgement, before holding up her book and attempting to end their interaction there, but Octavia was not having it.

"CLARKE, GET OVER HERE," her friend yelled, alerting the campers to her presence in the process. The kids started cheering and yelling her name, which is what caused her to abandon her sketch book and jog over to them.

She wasn't avoiding the murals. Of course not.

"What are you guys up to?" She asked reluctantly, eying the weapons that they were all wielding.

"Archery!" Octavia exclaimed as if it explained everything, and when the kids nodded in agreement Clarke couldn't help but chuckle, though she quickly grew wary when she say the familiar, mischievous glint appear in Octavia's eye. "Hey guys, who wants to see how Clarke does with one of these things?"

"O, I really don't think that's a good idea…" She trailed off, looking around but only seeing the enthusiastic faces of children who thought it was a great idea.

"Nonsense!" Octavia grinned wickedly, walking over and holding out the bow to her. "You can use mine!"

"Careful there Princess, you're going to kill someone like that," Bellamy chuckled, coming up behind a distraught looking Clarke armed with a crossbow, who had just missed her target by a mile.

"Believe it or not, she's actually improving," Octavia gloated, proving that she was enjoying torturing her friend all too much.

"Excuse me, I'm right here!" Clarke exclaimed, sounding more amused than offended. "And I'll have you know I'm just out of practice; I haven't done this in years!"

"Didn't you accidentally hit Jasper that one time?" Bellamy asked, raising his eyebrows in amusement when her face turned a bright shade of red.

"How do you know I didn't do that on purpose? Maybe my aim is actually fantastic!" He laughed again at that, shaking his head at Clarke's inability to admit defeat.

"Pass it here," he reached out for the bow, waiting patiently for a few seconds before Clarke relented and handed it to him. He hadn't used one in a while and knew he was out of practice, but it felt right in his hands so he feigned confidence, sending Clarke his trademark smirk. "Watch and learn, Princess."

Octavia, for her part, rolled her eyes and walked away, apparently having enough of her brother's behaviour and opting instead to help her campers. Ignoring her and tuning Clarke out, Bellamy loaded the bow and aimed it at his target, taking his time to line up the shot and get into the proper position.

"Still watching," Clarke taunted, putting a hand on her hip and cocking it to the side, showing Bellamy just how unimpressed she was.

He let out a huff of air at that, but didn't bother to reply. Instead, he focused completely on the target at hand and, after a few more seconds of careful preparation, he relaxed his shoulders, let out a light breath of air, and let the arrow fly.

"Like I said, watch and learn," he smirked, looking at the arrow sticking out of the center of the target with pride before turning to face Clarke and closing the space between them in a few long strides. "Now it's your turn, Princess."

"Oh, just give me the stupid thing," Clarke grumbled, not being able to back down from a challenge, despite them both knowing it likely wouldn't end well for her.

She grabbed the bow out of Bellamy's hands and stood were he had been moments before. She glared at him one last time before turning to face the target, loading an arrow, pointing it at the target, and shooting it.

Bellamy couldn't help but laugh when she missed the target altogether and watched the arrow fly a few feet past the circle of wood before landing on the ground. Managing to ignore his laughter altogether, Clarke didn't waste any time loading another arrow and trying again. And missing again.

"Okay, okay, okay, slow down," he stopped laughing just before she was going to try again, reaching out to grab her arm that was currently loading another arrow. "You need to be patient."

"I'm a patient person," she insisted, turning to look at him with a flushed face that gave away her frustration. "Like I said, I'm just out of practice."

"Come on Princess, just let me help," he didn't wait for her to answer or agree, as he took a final step forward so that he could almost feel her back pressed into his chest.

For a split second he was shocked by how close they were and how nice it felt, but he shook off that thought and reached around her to wrap his hands around hers, adjusting her arms in the process.

"See?" He asked, referring to the changes he'd made in her posture, taking his hands off of hers and placing them on her shoulders. "Elbow up, shoulders down."

A slight nod of her head showed him that she understood, so he kept going. "Now, take your time," he instructed, speaking quietly into her ear and convincing himself that he'd imagined the way she shuddered when his breath hit the side of her neck. "Focus on the arrow, not the target. You already know where you want it to go; your job is to get it there."

She once nodded again in understanding, but this time Bellamy stayed silent and let her take control; there really wasn't that much else he could tell her. She stayed still for a couple of seconds, before he felt the muscles in her shoulders relax as she released the arrow and watched it fly in a sharp, straight line towards the target, hitting the far left end of the circle.

Clarke didn't jump up and down and she didn't squeal in excitement, but Bellamy's hands were still on her shoulders, so he felt them move slightly as her face broke out into a smile and she turned her head to see his reaction.

"I told you I was just out of practice!" She gloated as she spun around, forcing him to lift his hands from her shoulders.

Bellamy had never been shy or nervous around girl, and he had never been awkward, but when his hands hovered over Clarke's shoulders as if he wanted to hold onto them again he learned what those things felt like.

"You sure it wasn't my great teaching skills?" He joked weakly, having trouble functioning when she was so close, with her wide, open smile tilted up towards his face.

"Mmmm, nope!" She declared, her eyes dancing with laughter at his feigned exasperation.

"Whatever you say, Princess," he indulged, the corners of his lips tilting up slightly despite himself.

They were still standing ridiculously close to each other, and Bellamy knew it was strange but he couldn't find it in himself to actually care; Clarke was smiling at him, and for some reason that felt like the most important thing in the world. He held her gaze for a few more seconds before she seemed to grow aware of the strange tension between them. Her eyes darted away then, and when they finally found his again he recognized the uncertainty in them.

"Keep practicing," he urged, looking above her head to the arrow that was barely holding on to the target.

She hesitated for a second, before shaking her head slightly and dropping the bow to the ground. "I should really get back to work," she said, nodding her head towards a notebook sitting by itself under a group of trees.

"Yeah? You're drawing?" He asked before he could stop himself, curious as to when she had started making art again. When she stayed silent and her lips pursed into a tight almost-smile he realized what she was working on. "The murals?"

"Yup," she drew out the word until it sounded like a cry for help more than anything else.

"Without me? Come on Princess, we're supposed to be partners!" When a real smile found its way across her face, Bellamy knew that a joke had been the right way to go. "Want some help? I can be quite inspiring."

Most girls found his smirk charming, but when Clarke looked up at him she burst out laughing. "Okay Blake, let's go."

They situated themselves under the tree, and it was only when the sketchpad was in Bellamy's hands that Clarke realized just how ridiculous some of her designs were.

"These are really… nice," he finished lamely, looking torn between not wanting to insult her while still wanting to be truthful.

"Alright, alright, alright," she said, reaching across him to try and regain possession of the book. "Like I said, they're just ideas"

"I mean, they're definitely a start…"

"Oh, really?" She asked, quickly growing amused by how uncomfortable he was insulting her less than good work.

"Definitely," he asserted, flipping through to some of her previous ideas. "I really like what you're doing here. I mean, fish? For a mural by a body of water? Ground breaking."

"I'm sorry; do you have any better ideas?" She asked skeptically, not really expecting him to contribute anything.

"Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about…" he trailed off, his eyes darting away from hers briefly before he found them again.

"Okay," she said, curious as to why he was so reluctant to continue.

"Well, you asked the campers to come up with ideas for the murals," he started, pursing his lips together and looking more unsure than she'd ever seen him.

"Right," she nodded her head, not understanding where he was trying to go. "And they told me the ideas. The list is in the front of the book."

"Right," he agreed, glancing at the book before he continued. "But they didn't tell you all of their ideas. Some of the older campers think that it would be nice to make one of the murals a sort of tribute to Wells, and your father too. They just- Clarke, would you just listen?"

"Wow- no, yeah," she stuttered, knowing that the look on her face was likely showcasing all of her emotions quite clearly. "Wow, just- they really asked you that?"

"Of course they did, Clarke," Bellamy said softly, sitting up a little bit straighter and placing a hand on her shoulder in a way that was a lot more comforting then she would have expected. "I know Wells was your best friend, and I can't imagine how hard this has been for you, but you're not the only one here who cared about him; the kids loved him."

"And, uhmm, wow- my father?" She felt tears welling up in her eyes, but she quickly brushed them away, hunching her shoulders to make a sort of shield from everything, but not actually moving away from Bellamy.

"It hasn't been that long Clarke; a lot of them were here while he was, and they remember him- they miss him," Bellamy insisted, catching her eye and squeezing her shoulder where his hand still sat.

"I guess it really hasn't," she smiled faintly, feeling the need to say something else. "It's just so easy to feel like I'm alone sometimes. I forget that other people miss them too."

"That's because nobody misses them like you do," he shrugged, moving slowly to wrap his arm around her and pull her into his side in a half-hug. "Nobody's going through the exact same thing that you are, and nobody really understands it. But that doesn't mean you're alone- there are so many people who love you and care about you, and we're all here for you. Got it?"

"Yeah," she whispered into his shoulder, not wanting to risk saying anything else through the tears that had reappeared, instead turning her face into his shoulder and letting them fall. "God, I'm so sorry about this."

"Don't be," he said gently, rubbing a his hand up and down her arm and holding her close when she got embarrassed and tried to pull away. "You need to talk about these things, and I'm honored that you feel comfortable doing it with me."

"Still, thank you," she murmured, leaning back into him and forgetting how strange it was to do so.

"Anytime, Princess," he replied, loosening his grip on her slightly so that she could move away if she wanted to, but when she didn't do that he held on tighter, causing Clarke's heart to practically stop when she felt his head shift, so that his lips pressed against her hair for a couple of seconds.

Realistically, she knew that she should have pulled away and started talking about the murals or the schedule for next week or literally anything, but sitting there in Bellamy's arms was the first time she felt at home in months, so she stayed where she was, and if he thought it was weird he didn't say anything either.

But eventually she had to move, so she grabbed the sketchbook and flipped it shut and said something about getting back to work before she pulled away from him and stood up and walked away, feeling his eyes stay on her the whole way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was literally 2.5K words of Bellarke trash, and I'm so sorry that it took me forever to post it and update! I have posted about a million oneshots, and I'm working on another Bellarke AU, but other than that I have absolutely no excuse for the delay.   
> Also, all of your comments really do mean the world to me, and I'm so sorry that I've gotten really terrible at replying to them, but I'm working on that too, I swear!   
> Anyways, this chapter was a lot of fun to write and I hope you enjoyed it!


	12. Chapter 12

"Fish? For a mural by a body of water? Ground breaking," Octavia mocked Clarke's art, continuing to look through the sketchbook despite being unimpressed with what she was seeing.

"Funny," Clarke replied, laying back on her bed and staring at her friend from across the room. "You know, that's the same thing your brother said; you and him are more alike than you think."

"Not a chance," Octavia brushed the comment off, "You adore me and you barely tolerate him, so he and I can't have anything it common!"

"I… I tolerate him," she countered weakly, not entirely sure why she felt the need to defend her relationship with Bellamy, just as Raven barged through the door.

"Who do you tolerate?" She asked, flinging herself onto Octavia's bed, as she couldn't be bothered to walk the extra few feet to her own.

"My brother," Octavia informed her, leaning over so that the two girls shared a view of the sketchbook.

"Oh, she tolerates him," Raven drawled, her tone filled with innuendo. "She really, really tolerates him."

"Raven, please," Clarke scoffed, trying to ignore the way both girls raised their eyebrows.

"What's so bad about Bellamy?" Octavia asked innocently, looking up at Clarke through her eyelashes in a way that usually got her anything she wanted with just about anybody.

"There's nothing wrong with him," Clarke stuttered, quickly finding herself well outside of her comfort zone. "He's just- you know- he and I are friends. Kind of. I don't know, okay?"

"Kind of friends? Really? That's the best you've got?" Raven pressed, only stopping when she flipped to a page in the sketchbook that apparently piqued her curiosity. "What's this?"

Clarke watched as Octavia leaned over to get a look at the page, her eyes going wide in realization when she saw the picture. "That's-" she faltered, looking up at Clarke and then back down at the page, clearly understanding what she saw but not knowing what to do about it. "It's nothing," she finally whispered, attempting to grab and close the sketchbook.

"Wha-" Raven started, not relinquishing the book, clearly confused by Octavia's strange behaviour and Clarke's silence.

"It's nothing," Octavia repeated, sounding more firm in her convictions, which is likely why she looked so surprised when Clarke interrupted her.

"It's fine, O," she said softly, moving to sit in between in her friends and grab the sketchbook. "It's- some of the kids wanted to make one of the murals a sort of memorial for the people we've lost," she explained, tracing her hand lightly over the drawing in question. "I was thinking we could do a sort of outer space type thing… I mean, I know it's cliché but we're probably going to end up with an underwater theme by the lake and a forest type thing for the equipment shed, so if we did outer space it'd be covering another natural scenery, you know? And then all of the kids could add a star, or a note, or something to help them say goodbye."

Nobody spoke for a few seconds after that, but Clarke felt Octavia's hand on her back and Raven's eyes on her, and she knew it was the first time she'd spoke to either of them about it, and they all knew it was a big deal, which is why she was glad that nobody said anything until she finally spoke again.

"I was thinking that above the whole thing we could write 'It's good people who make good places,' for my dad. He was always saying things like that, and I think it's simple enough for the sentiment to get across to everyone. And then maybe a knight or a horse or something for Wells. I don't know; I haven't really thought it through yet," she trailed off, mumbling the final words as she traced a finger over the outlined constellations on the paper.

"It's perfect, Clarkey," Octavia choked out, trying to hide her sniffles as she wrapped her arm around Clarke and leaned onto her friend.

"I'm sorry," Raven interrupted, "I don't know-"

"My dad used to run the camp. He died during what was supposed to be a routine surgery five years ago," Clarke explained, ignoring the hard tone her voice had taken and giving her friend the same version of the story that she had been delivering for years. "Wells was my best friend- Jaha's son? He died in a car accident in January."

"My god, Clarke," Raven whispered, turning to look at Clarke through the tears that had welled up in both of their eyes, "They would both be so proud of you."

"Raven," she shook her head, laughing humorlessly through the tears that she refused to let fall.

"I'm serious," the other girl insisted, wrapping an arm around her friend and leaning on her so that Clarke was surrounded. "I mean, look at you! You're amazing- you're practically running this camp, and you're going to go to med school, and honestly, it can't be easy. I can't believe how strong you are- they really would be proud."

"Thanks," she breathed, smiling shakily before sinking into her spot on the bed surrounded by her two friends, eventually grabbing the sketchbook and continuing to draw out rough ideas, occasionally hearing Octavia and Raven make noises of approval and appreciation.

***

Later that day Clarke was in the art room, building pots and vases and mugs and pretty much anything else the kids wanted to make with their clay, when she turned around to find Finn standing in the doorway.

"You got something on-" he started, pointing vaguely to his own cheek before stepping forward and moving to rub the speck of dirt off of her face.

"It's fine, I got it," she said, taking a self-conscious step back and reaching a hand up to feel the streak of clay that had been smeared across her skin. "It gets messy in here, it's fine."

"You could just let me help," he suggested, sounding more annoyed then he had a right to and looking like he wanted to help, but instead keeping his hands to himself, reaching up to push his hair out of his face.

"I'd say you've helped enough," she accused with a light laugh, turning away from him and distracting herself with work that really didn't need to be done, only speaking up again when she realized that ignoring him wasn't going to make him leave. "Was there something you needed?"

"Clarke," he said, making her name sound like a statement, "Come on."

"Finn," she replied, doing her best to force all of her annoyance into the word, "I have no idea what you want from me. Seriously, I've made it perfectly clear that I'm done with you, so what do you want?"

"Look," he coaxed, following her as she made her way around the tables, picking up cups of dirty water to dump and refill, "You were mad, you said some things you didn't mean, I get that. We've all been there. What I'm saying is that I forgive you; you and I are really good together, and I think we should start over."

"You forgive me?" she asked, stopping in place by the sink and turning around to try and make sure that she'd heard him right. "You're forgiving me?"

"Well, yeah," he said, sounding confused and furrowing his brow when he caught on to how angry she was.

She knew there were kids around, and she knew they were at work, and she knew it was incredibly unprofessional, but none of that seemed very important, which is why she flung a mug of muddy, gray water at him, watching with satisfaction and a little bit of horror as it splashed onto his face and down his chest.

"What the hell?" he exclaimed, taking a step back and looking up from his soaked shirt to see a proud smirk on Clarke's face and a group of shocked kids staring at them.

"Oops, I guess I slipped," she lied blatantly, shrugging as innocently as she could.

"You…" he stuttered, running a hand over his face which only worked to smear a few clumps of clay across his skin, "You…"

"Like I said," she took a step closer to him and lowered her voice so that the kids, who seemed uninterested now that they weren't throwing things at each other, didn't hear, "We're done. I deserve so much better than you, and I intend to get it. So leave me and my friends alone- or don't; Octavia and Raven both work with sharper tools than I do- I'd love to find out what they have to say to you."

He was still standing in front of her when she turned around and headed back to the sink, hoping that by ignoring him and getting back to work he would take the hint to leave. She heard him walk away a few seconds later, and was just breathing out a sigh of relief when a familiar voice stopped him.

"What are you doing here?" Bellamy asked him, apparently taking Finn's disheveled appearance as a good sign, as he seemed more amused than angry.

Finn, for his part, snorted in disbelief before ignoring Bellamy entirely except to gesture at him while turning back to Clarke, "Is this what you meant by doing better than me?"

"Finn," Clarke snapped, ignoring the curious looks on the faces of the kid around them and the matching expression that covered Bellamy's face, "Go. Now."

"Alright, alright, alright," he leered, throwing his arms up in mock surrender, "You kids have fun."

Bellamy stepped out of the way to let Finn out the door, watching him leave before turning back to Clarke. "What was that about?" He asked, arms crossed with an eyebrow raised.

"He forgave me," Clarke informed him bitterly, her lips pursed together in a bastardized version of a smile as she started working again, redistributing the mugs of water to each table.

"Lucky you," Bellamy joked, causing Clarke to let out a surprised snort and relishing in the moment before speaking again, "But seriously, if he's bothering you I can talk to him- it is my job, you know."

"I don't think he'll be a problem anymore, but thanks," she said, placing the last cup in the middle of a table and sitting down at one of the empty seats before looking back up at him. "Anyways, what are you doing here? Was there something I can help you with?"

"What, I can't just come by to visit? I happen to love art," he stated indignantly, feigning offence as he took a seat at the table across from her and accepted a piece of clay from one of the kids. Once he had started playing with it he looked up to see Clarke's expression, which was filled with disbelief, at which point he continued. "Fine, Princess, you're right- Miller's sick and he was supposed to be supervising movie night; would you mind taking his place?"

"Depends," she reasoned dramatically, focusing on the piece of clay in her hand and not having to look at Bellamy to know he was rolling his eyes, "What movie are we watching?"

"Frozen- that should be right up your alley," he remarked casually, dipping his hand into the mug of water and running it over his clay, which was still in the form of an indistinguishable blob from what she could tell. "Princesses and stuff?"

"Do I really seem like the Disney Princess type of girl?" she asked, trying to put more annoyance in her voice than she actually felt.

"I've been calling you Princess for the past 8 years- what do you think?"

"I still don't understand why," she countered, "I'm not that spoiled."

"I know that," he said and, despite his light tone, Clarke could have sworn that his face was tinged slightly red when she caught a glimpse of it. "There's just something in the way you carry yourself; you're a natural leader. The name fits."

"Whatever you say, Blake," she said skeptically, avoiding eye contact as she focused on the clay she was playing with and they both fell into silence.

Seeing Bellamy with the kids always surprised her; at first glance you really wouldn't think him much more than your typical, albeit very good looking, frat boy, but she had long since learned not to underestimate him. Whether it was because of all the time he put into raising Octavia, or because of his naturally good heart, Bellamy Blake was fantastic with children.

Their table quickly became the place to be, with kids running up to show him their work, and him praising them and giving them suggestions and making them laugh. All Clarke could do was sit back and marvel at his nurturing tendencies, which is what she was still doing when he surprised her by leaning across the table and placing a small circle of clay with triangular points coming out of it on the table in front of her.

"What's this?" she asked, picking it up and turning it around to try and gain a better understanding of the strange object.

"It's your crown!" a girl at their table exclaimed, giggling when Bellamy smiled at her and nodded in agreement.

"We can't all be artists like you, Princess," Bellamy defended himself and his tiny sculpture, clearly not actually taking offence.

"It's perfect," she stated, placing it back on the table in front of her and faltering only when she looked up and saw just how brightly he was beaming at her.

Their shared smile continued for a few moments, before Bellamy cleared his throat, "Anyways," he said impishly, "I've got to go; I'll see you tonight."

"You'll be at movie night?" she asked, wondering not for the first time what she had gotten herself into.

"I'm the other supervisor!" he smirked, walking backwards out of the room. "Who did you think picked the movie?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is pretty much the fastest I've updated anything ever and the next chapter should also be up relatively soon, which is hopefully making up for the HUGE amount of time I've left between updates for the past few weeks!  
> Hope you guys enjoy this, and your reviews really do mean the world to me :) <3


	13. Chapter 13

Clarke left her cabin for the mess hall, knowing that she was late for movie night but not bothering to feel sorry about it because surely Bellamy could handle a group of kids by himself with a movie for ten minutes, and she was doing him a huge favor by being there at all, or at least that's what she had told herself when she'd decided to take a quick shower 10 minutes before she was supposed to be meeting him.

But the closer she got to the room they were showing the movie in the more uncertain she became, because she could swear she heard chanting and some sort of a banging noise, which made absolutely no sense- they were watching a movie.

And then she was standing in the doorframe and looking into the room, seeing Bellamy standing amidst a group of 50 some-odd kids who looked like they were taking part in the biggest hybrid pillow/popcorn fight this world had ever seen. She stood in awe for a few seconds, trying to figure out what exactly was going on, but then Bellamy caught her eye and all her hopes of staying out of sight until the commotion blew over flew out the window.

"Clarke," he called out, only slightly exaggerating the desperation in his voice and extracting himself from his spot in the middle of a group of disgruntled children, moving closer to her in the process, "Help."

"What happened?" she asked, trying not to laugh, but her own disbelief getting the best of her.

"As it turns out, not everybody likes Frozen," he explained vaguely.

She didn't know what to make of that, but his point was proven a few seconds later when a little boy charged past them with a pillow above his head and a war cry of, "Nobody wants to build a snowman."

At that Clarke dissolved into a fit of laughter completely, ignoring the exasperated look on Bellamy's face. "You were left alone with them for ten minutes," she exclaimed.

"They're monsters," he insisted, though she saw his lips turned up in a smile that proved he was starting to see the humor in the situation. "Should we just let them tire themselves out?"

"I don't see the harm in it," she shrugged casually, leaning back against the doorframe to supervise the children's rebellion and to make sure that it stayed relatively contained.

Of course, a few seconds later when she felt a piece of popcorn hit her chest and bounce down her shirt, all thought of being a passive observer went out the window, as she looked up to see an impish but clearly amused Bellamy looking at her slyly.

"You want to go there, Blake?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and making a show of pushing herself off the door so that she was standing at full height (which still left her a good foot shorter than him).

"What, are you scared, Princess?" he taunted, staying in his spot beside the popcorn bowl and meticulously picking up another piece, examining it as he waited for her next move.

The smile on her face grew, but she pressed her lips together in an attempt to hide it and took three quick, long steps towards him, sufficiently closing the distance before he could make another move. "You wish," she smirked, looking up at him tilting her head slightly to the side, waiting until he was thoroughly distracted by their heavy lidded eye contact, to pull a pillow that she'd confiscated from a camper out from behind her back and attempt to hit him over the head with it.

"Oh, it's on," he whispered threateningly, recovering from the hit that he'd only been able to half-dodge, and grabbing a handful of popcorn that he then proceeded to shower over her head.

She tried to use the pillow as a shield, folding her body in half underneath it to escape the popcorn that he kept throwing at her, but when she did that he simply wrapped his arms around her, which would have been intimate in any other situation but, because he continued pelting her face with the popcorn, it was anything but.

She screeched and squealed, but it did nothing to deter his attack. When he finally ran out of popcorn she thought she was safe, but rather than letting her out of his embrace he brought his hands to her sides, which is when she finally admitted defeat.

"NO," she half-laughed, half-screamed, "No tickling," she continued to protest through labored breath, molding her body into his in an attempt to get him to stop, and then freezing altogether when she heard a familiar voice coming from the door.

"What is going on here?" Clarke looked up to see Jaha standing in the door frame, looking in on the mess that was currently taking place, with none other than her own mother standing beside him.

For her part, Clarke stood up immediately and only had to pull on Bellamy's arm once before he remembered that it was still slung around her waist and subsequently freed her. "We were… picking a movie?" she offered weakly, throwing a bleak smile in their direction, as she knew how badly it must have looked for both of them.

"And here I was thinking you were going to be watching a movie," Jaha snapped, striding into the room and ignoring the looks of horror on the faces of the children, focusing his disapproval on Clarke and Bellamy.

Clarke rolled her eyes at that, quickly growing tired of Jaha's power trip and choosing to ignore him, and pretty much everyone else in the room, as she turned to face her mother. "What are you doing here?" she asked dryly, feeling the fight drain out of her just by standing in the older women's presence.

"I've been going over some logistics with Thelonious," she explained coolly, her face not displaying any trace of emotion as she looked over her daughter for the first time in months. "I was just leaving."

She hadn't made any effort to contact her mother since she'd gotten to camp, and she'd barely talked to her before that, but it still felt like a slap in the face to know that her mother had been there all day and hadn't bothered to tell or, or to even say hi, so Clarke did what she did best and brushed it off, ignoring the hurt and staying calmly collected, just like her mother had taught her.

"Well, don't let us keep you," she replied briskly with a small, tight smile that didn't fool anybody. "Don't worry about us; we'll get this cleaned up and start the movie right away. Drive safe!"

"Clarke," Bellamy said softly, taking a step closer to her as she turned away from her mother to face an army of children, all in various states of disarray. She chose to ignore him too and began to address the children, instructing them on what to do, and what to clean, and then helping them clean, until she decided that the work was done and had them vote on a movie. It was only when everybody was sitting amongst their blankets and pillows with what was left of the popcorn being passed around in bowls and The Incredible's playing in front of them that Bellamy tried to talk to her again. "Clarke, are you alright?" he asked, knowing right away that he'd said the wrong thing.

"I'm fine Bellamy," she insisted, hoping that through the dimly lit room he wouldn't see the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. She felt him study her for a couple more seconds and, just as she was about to say something else, he nodded his head and made a sound that fell somewhere between agreement and sympathy, before wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his side, and then giving his full attention back to the movie.

It was something that she'd grown used to over the past few weeks, and so rather than questioning and analyzing how strange it was that just being close to Bellamy Blake could make her feel better, she burrowed herself into his side and stayed there until the movie was over.

********

Because of their delay in starting the movie, Clarke got back to her cabin later than she'd expected, so she wasn't surprised to see Octavia and Raven sprawled across their beds, engaged in a deeply philosophical discussion about how they were both only going to date older men from now on.

"I just don't have time to deal with the immaturity," Raven insisted, after Clarke had been caught up to speed on their conversation. "With older guys it's so much easier- they know what they want and they don't play games!"

"Raven, you do know that Wick's only like, 3 years older than you, right?" Octavia pointed out, raising an eyebrow in the classic Blake style when Raven brushed the comment off.

"Wick?" Clarke asked, not having heard about that development. "Like, Wick from the kitchen staff?"

"He's cute," Raven shrugged, "And he's actually a mechanical engineer; or he will be soon enough, anyways."

While Octavia coughed out something that sounded vaguely like, 'nerd,' Clarke simply smiled. "That's great- he's a really good guy!" she said, though from the questioning looks on her friends' faces it was clear that she lacked conviction in her tone, which is why she let out a sigh and continued, "I'm serious, I'm really happy for you!"

"Right," Raven drawled out, sitting up from her spot on the bed and clearly waiting for Clarke to elaborate, prompting her to do so when she didn't. "What's up with you?"

"Nothing," she insisted, as it had become a habit for her to do, but then she shook her head and sat down, looking up at the two girls in front of her who were clearly concerned about her. "My mom was here today."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Octavia gasped, while Raven simply looked intrigued.

"I didn't know she was coming," Clarke explained, trying to brush it off like she had before and, in the process, looking anywhere but at her friends. "I doubt she would've said anything to me at all, but her and Jaha were walking past the mess hall and they came in to see what was going on and… yeah."

"Clarke, I'm so sorry," Octavia sympathized, the smile on her face looking dangerously like a grimace. "That's really shitty of her."

Clarke shrugged that off, not knowing what to say, which is why she was grateful when Raven interrupted. "Sorry to keep doing this, but you guys do remember that I'm new here, right? I'm going to need a bit of an explanation before I can completely hate this woman."

"Abby is terrifying," Octavia offered, causing Clarke to roll her eyes but laugh nonetheless at the ever-present apprehension in regards to her mother, which is something that she suspected both Blake's had in common. "She hates me. And Bell. And happiness."

"And me," Clarke added bitterly, knowing with that statement she was taking their conversation from ironically funny to just plain sad, but not finding it in herself to care. "We don't get along. To say the least."

"Well, I can relate to that," Raven offered, "My mom was never really around. She took all my money and ran a couple years back."

"Raven…" Clarke gasped, looking at the girl who simply shrugged, which was quickly becoming their groups' way of saying 'our parental figures have a tendency to fuck up, but I've managed to move on and I'm not too emotionally compromised or stunted because of it.'

"I'm over it," she said, and though they all knew it was something that nobody could ever really get over, they let it be.

"My mom's pretty cool, but my dad left before I was born?" Octavia said after a few moments of silence, "We're sharing things like that, right? Like, we're just going around and talking about the shittiest things that have happened to us?"

"I… yeah, I guess so," Clarke said after a long pause during which they all assessed the situation and realized that it was, in fact, exactly what they were doing. After she affirmed their choice of activity, Clarke was the first to burst out laughing, and the others soon followed suit. They all knew that their stories were anything but funny, but they also knew that sometimes laughing is the only thing you can do to stop the tears, so they laughed.

And then they stayed where they were, lying on their beds late into the night talking about anything and everything, and when the conversation somehow rolled back around to older men, and from there to the strange relationship developing between Bellamy and Clarke, she hid her smile and pretended to be annoyed, though she couldn't help but think back to earlier that night when he'd had his arms around her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: I would like to apologize for the following reasons:
> 
> A. It took me forever to post this (like a ridiculously long amount of time) (I'm no longer promising to 'update soon' etc. because I am clearly the least reliable person ever) (but I do promise that I won't give up on this story, so just stick with me here!)
> 
> B. There are so many run on sentences in this chapter. So many. Like, every other sentence is a run on sentence
> 
> So, my apologies! This is another one of those chapters that I ended up writing a million times, and I could probably write it a million more times with a million different scenarios, but I didn't want to keep anybody waiting any longer, so I hope you enjoyed it!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I just actually read through this whole thing from the first chapter until this one for the first time ever and, in doing so, I've realized what a complete mess it actually is. I've just been writing it chapter to chapter based on what I've felt like doing, and I never actually laid out a plan or anything, which has resulted in a huge mess of different things happening, so just for the sake of clarity here are some things that I've decided on/written contradicting things throughout the fic but would now like to clear up:
> 
> 1\. Bellamy is around 24/25 (in law school but taking the summer off to work), while Clarke is 20 (having just finished her first year of pre-med) and the other characters are pretty much all in between there
> 
> 2\. Jake Griffin died during a routine surgery that Abby (being a surgeon) recommended (I think I mentioned in one chapter that he died in a car accident, which is wrong and I have no idea what I was thinking)
> 
> 3\. Wells is the one that died in a car accident
> 
> If there's anything else you think needs to be clarified please let me know, and I hope you enjoy this chapter :)

"Clarke, do you have a moment?" she turned from her spot sitting on the ground to see Jaha walking towards her, looking out of place outside of his office.

She considered turning him down, but he'd been nice enough to ask instead of ordering her to talk to him and she knew he likely meant well, so she extracted herself from the kids who had surrounded her and were playing with her hair, and followed him a few feet away.

"What's up?" she asked briskly, hoping to keep the conversation short so that she could get back to supervising the group of eight year olds currently covering a large wall in white paint in preparation for one of the murals.

"It seems to be going well out here," he commented generously, nodding towards the kids who, in all honesty, weren't doing a very good job at all.

"I think they're starting to get the hang of it," Clarke nodded, knowing that Jaha didn't find her just to engage in small talk but going along with it anyways.

The older man smiled pleasantly at that and continued to watch the kids for another moment before he nodded his head one last time and turned to face Clarke with a much more resigned expression on his face.

"Clarke," he started hesitantly, like he was waiting for her to attack him, "Your mother means well, and I know you know that."

She sighed then and, while she'd known the conversation was coming, she hadn't been at all prepared for the sad tone in the man's voice and the way that it somehow hit home for her. "You know, I don't blame her anymore," Clarke said softly, looking anywhere but at the man who had always been in her life and, in many ways, was the last connection she had to the two people she'd been closest to. "I forgave her a long time ago; that's not the problem. I just… After everything that happened, we both said so many things to each other that we can't take back- every time I look at her I remember them."

"She feels the same way," he assured her, looking surprised at how much Clarke had been willing to open up. "Look, Wells and I weren't on very good terms before his accident and that's something I regret every day. I would do anything to go back and talk it through with him, but I can't. I know it's hard for you, but you and your mother need each other more than either of you realize- in some ways she's all you've got."

"I know," she sighed with a small smile that was mostly meant to keep her tears at bay, "I also know how much Wells looked up to you. I talked to him the day before the accident; he was doing really well. He missed you, but he was okay."

He didn't reply for a long time, but he did put one hand on her shoulder in a gesture of solidarity, before finally replying with a simple but choked, "Thank you, Clarke."

She swallowed then and, realizing how dry her throat was, coughed slightly, hoping it was enough to break the trance they seemed to have fallen into.

"So, you're painting again?" Jaha asked, attempting to take the conversation in a lighter direction and failing completely, though Clarke found that she didn't entirely mind.

"I wouldn't say that, but it's been nice to work on the murals," she responded, sounding more composed than she had before. "Bellamy told you what we're doing for the one in the mess hall?"

"Yes, yes, and I think it's going to be fantastic," he said, sounding just as touched as Clarke was every time she thought about what her campers had banned together to do. "I have to say, I'm impressed with the Blake boy," he commented vaguely, only continuing when Clarke raised an eyebrow. "He's helped you a lot this summer, hasn't he?"

She paused, thinking back on all of her small interactions with him that, coupled together, really did mean a lot to her, and simply nodded, not bothering to hide the faint smile on her face, which Jaha took as an invitation to continue.

"Just a month ago you wouldn't have even considered having this conversation," he reasoned, which got Clarke thinking back to her first day at camp when she'd yelled at the man, and the months before that when she'd disappeared into herself, not wanting to talk to anybody about anything at all. "That boy is good for you. You deserve to be happy, and I'm glad you're finally getting closer to it."

Clarke was, once again, at a loss for words, but she managed to actually make eye contact with Jaha as she, nodded her head to show her understanding and appreciation. She was finally able to choke out a small, "Thank you," which seemed to be enough for the older man.

He patted her on the back once more, returning the small smile that she was no longer struggling to maintain. "Keep up the good work here," he gestured towards the painting children one last time before turning and walking away.

******

The kids had left shortly after Jaha did, heading off to their next stations and leaving Clarke alone to paint the wall that was supposed to have been finished hours ago. At first she'd considered going to find help but had decided against it eventually, opting instead to finish the work by herself. But then it was three hours later and the sun was starting to set and she was covered in sweat and paint and still not finished, lying on the ground in front of the mural taking a break, which is where she was when Bellamy found her.

She saw him coming from a mile away but didn't bother moving from her spot on the ground, letting out a long, dramatic groan in greeting.

"It's good to see you too," he chuckled, sitting beside her so that they were both facing the large wall, which was only half covered in white paint. "How long have you been out here?"

"Too long," she whispered darkly, once again getting a laugh from him. "The kids helped a bit, but they're too short and somewhat crazy to have actually done any good."

"And you didn't think to ask anybody over 5 feet tall?" he chastised, sounding slightly amused by her stubborn streak.

"I didn't think it'd take this long!" she defended herself, not bothering to sound at all believable.

"Right," he drew out the word, shaking her head but letting a small smile show. "Well," he started again, Clarke's curiosity piquing as his smile continued to grow, "Lucky for you I come bearing gifts!"

She sat up fully then, raising her eyebrows as she waited for him to elaborate and letting out a laugh filled with disbelief when he pulled out a six-pack of beer that he had somehow managed to hide behind his back. "Contraband?" she asked, not hesitating to crack open the can that he offered her.

"I'd say you deserve it," he replied, glancing towards the splotches of white paint covering her skin and hair and clothing. "Besides, you've been out here all day; you're probably dehydrated. You definitely need a drink."

"And beer is going to help with that," she laughed, throwing her head back and downing half the can in one go before turning back to him. "You were right," she smiled, "I feel better already."

"Slow down, Princess," he said, taking a sip from his own can as he watched her clearly enjoying hers, "We can't have you completely wasted; technically we are still at work."

She rolled her eyes at that, turning to face him dramatically as she said, "Please Bellamy, I'm not a kid anymore; I can hold my alcohol."

"Trust me Clarke, I know you're not a kid," he said, his voice dropping an octave lower and sending a shockwave throughout her body when she met his eyes, before her face turned a bright red and they both looked away. "So," he said louder than necessary, "We've got to paint this wall."

"Right," Clarke said, hoping he wouldn't notice the slight stutter in her voice and trying to hide it by taking on an overly casual appearance. "But I've been painting this goddamn wall all day, so I say it's your turn."

"Have you always been this bossy?" Bellamy joked, but stood up and grabbed a paint brush anyways. "What am I saying, of course you have."

"Have you always been this whiny?" she shot back, though the smile on her face and the lightness of her tone held no signs of anger. "Oh wait, of course you have!"

"Cute, Clarke," he patronized, turning away from her to the wall and getting to work painting, leaving Clarke to enjoy the view it gave her of his muscles moving and flexing beneath his shirt.

She paused then, questioning where those thoughts had come from. Of course, she loved the way his eyes lit up when he smiled, and just how annoyingly messy his mop of hair could get, and she'd occasionally found herself fascinated by the freckles brushed across his face, but it was Bellamy. And then she was thinking about what Jaha had mentioned earlier in the day, and she was slowly realizing just how much Bellamy had been there for her all summer, without ever having been asked.

It was while she was lost in those thoughts that she realized how intently she'd been staring at Bellamy and that, in her silence, he had turned around and was currently staring back with a confused look on his face.

"Everything okay?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as she shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts.

"Yeah," she said quickly, letting out a small laugh at how strange she'd been acting. "I was just thinking," she added, and then felt the need to clarify when Bellamy continued to stare, "I talked to Jaha today."

Understanding washed over his expression then and he took a few steps forward until she was directly in front of her, which is where he sat down. "Your mom?"

She smiled again, lips pursed together in a straight line as she looked to the side. "Yup," she said, shrugging her shoulders as her eyes wandered back to his, wondering what she would find there and being shocked by the concern she saw.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, leaning forward with his knees on his elbows so that, when Clarke looked up again, their faces were startlingly close.

"Not really," she muttered, realizing that she'd hurt him when pain briefly flickered across his face. "Bellamy, it's not that I don't want to talk to you… it's that I don't want to talk about it. Right now I just don't have anything else to say about her, or anything else, really."

"Okay Clarke," he said softly, a small smile ghosting his face as his eyes once again found hers, this time somehow compelling her to just keep staring into them until she began to feel lighter.

"Thank you," she replied, her voice sounding breathier than normal as she leaned towards him and closed the distance between them, surprising them both when she placed a soft, chaste kiss on his cheek before holding her face beside his for a moment longer than necessary.

When he didn't move away or say anything to interrupt her Clarke kissed him again, this time a little bit closer to his mouth and with a little bit more pressure, holding her breath and waiting for him to respond.

It wasn't until she kissed him once more, right on the corner of his mouth, that he responded, turning his head slightly so that the next time she moved to kiss him she was pressing her lips onto his, and his hand came up to cradle the back of her head, and he was pulling her closer, and she was kissing Bellamy Blake.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sincerely hope that kiss was worth the 14-chapter-long wait! I also hope you don't hate me entirely for how long the updates take- I've got a lot going on, and on top of that I just suffered through 3 weeks of the worst writer's block ever, and you guys deserve more updates but I promise I'm doing my best! 
> 
> Also, a huge shout-out to the lovely folks who saw my cry for help on tumblr and offered my some fantastic ideas- y'all are life savers <3
> 
> Finally, your comments and favorites and everything are HUGELY appreciated, and you guys are all just fantastic, and I hope you enjoy this chapter (and I'm sorry it's a little bit short and kind of angsty)!

Clarke wasn't entirely sure what broke her out of her trance, but one second she was practically sitting in Bellamy's lap with her hands in his hair just trying to get closer, and then she had jumped back at least three feet and was staring at him in horror.

"I am so sorry," she gasped, standing up and looking away, putting as much distance between them as she could. "I just- you were right there and then I just- I am so sorry."

She made the mistake of looking at him then, and when she saw his slightly swollen lips and the hint of red brushed across his cheeks she almost didn't regret anything, but the moment passed and his typical smirk was back, and through it he managed to say, "No worries Princess, you're not the first girl to find me irresistible."

Clarke could have sworn she saw him wince when she visibly recoiled at his crude comment, surprised at how much his blasé attitude had hurt her. "Right," she snapped as she turned to go, though the word held less edge and more defeat than she would have liked it to.

She'd already taken a few steps when she heard Bellamy scramble to his feet, and a few more by the time he called out to her, "Clarke, wait," but she didn't slow down. She'd made it half way across the empty field by the time he held out a hand to stop her.

"What?" she asked, praying he didn't notice the slight waver in her voice or the way she shied away from his hand until he finally dropped it.

He didn't say anything right away, but he kept staring at her in an incredibly unnerving way. She came close to breaking the silence between them more than once, but it felt like he was seeing something new in her, and it wasn't something that she wanted to interrupt.

But then he opened his mouth and ruined it all when he said, "Nothing," in a sharp brisk tone, and then he was the one walking away.

"Nothing?" she asked, calling after him before she knew entirely what she was doing, but not bothering to regret it, because how dare he?

She noticed his shoulders tense up, and when he turned back around the scowl on his face was almost enough to send her running. "What do you want me to say, Clarke?"

She paused then, because she had absolutely no idea what she had wanted to hear, but of course she wasn't going to admit that. "Nothing, Bellamy," she replied, imitating his cold tone, surprising herself when she continued more frantically. "Nothing. This was a mistake. Obviously. I can barely stand you," she concluded, vaguely noticing that she must have started walking while she was yelling at him, because she found herself closer to him than ever.

The noise coming out of Bellamy's mouth sounded like a laugh, but there were absolutely no trace of humour on his face. "You're not that great yourself, Princess," he drawled, fusing his old nickname for her with lethal amounts of poison, and then continuing when that apparently wasn't enough. "God, you're the most stubborn person I know."

"Coming from you," she threw her hands up in the air, trying to convey her annoyance through her gestures, "The biggest control freak ever!"

"Says the girl who has to be right about absolutely everything," he countered, neither of them letting up.

"Well you're an asshole," she yelled back, hoping the anger in her tone conveyed her feelings more than her mediocre insult did.

"And you're too emotionally damaged to tell when somebody actually cares about you," he snapped, taking a step back when Clarke didn't throw another insult at him right away. She saw his eyes widen and the look of regret on his face, and she knew he was about to apologize but that wasn't what she wanted. "Clarke, I-"

"It's fine," she interrupted him briskly, taking a step back herself and looking anywhere but at him, because they were fighting, and he cared about her, and she couldn't argue with his denunciation of her emotional well-being. "You're right. I'm right-this was a mistake."

This time when she walked away she kept walking, ignoring his calls after her and noting that he didn't bother to chase her, and filing it all into a part of her brain that she tried her best to ignore.

***

Octavia had practically been raised by Bellamy, and she'd been friends with Clarke for years, so she knew the two better than she knew just about anything else, and she definitely knew when something was off.

But she also knew how stubborn the two of them could be, and how to deal with them, which is why when Clarke came back to their cabin with her hair messed up and her lips slightly bruised and a look on her face that showed she was either ready to kill or to cry, she didn't say anything at all.

When Raven sat up a little bit straighter and opened her mouth to speak, Octavia had elbowed her, ignoring the indignant noise she made, whispering a vague, 'She'll talk when she's ready,' under her breath as Clarke excused herself to the bathroom. But then days passed and Clarke didn't talk, and Octavia started to worry.

She saw the looks that Bellamy sent Clarke's way, and the ones that Clarke sent his way, and how neither of them actually noticed it at all. She saw the way Clarke grew tense and unforgiving whenever he was around, and the general air of exhaustion that overtook Bellamy. She saw the way they were, more or less, avoiding each other entirely, and she'd had enough of it.

A couple of days after their strange behaviour started, Octavia had been leaving the equipment shed when she all but ran into Clarke, who had been working tirelessly on the same mural for days. Covered in paint and sweat, it was clear that Clarke wasn't at her best, but there was a satisfied look on her face that Octavia understood when she took another few steps outside and saw the finished product of her friends work.

"Damn Griffin, it looks great," she'd vocalized her appreciation, taking in the scene on the wall in front of her.

At first the only response she got was a small, proud smile, but a shoulder nudge and an impressed look was all it took for a laugh to escape Clarke's mouth. "Thanks," she'd said, all but glowing in the aftermath of her art.

Octavia hated to ruin the moment, but she couldn't help but ask, "Does Bell know you're done?" and note the cold glaze that seemed to cloud Clarke's expression immediately.

"He's been busy lately," Clarke shrugged and, while her friend looked away from her, Octavia kept her eyes trained on Clarke's until she finally turned back towards her.

"Really," was all Octavia offered, an obvious tone of impatience shining through in her voice, but when she watched her friend purse her lips together and cross her arms and look like she wanted to disappear, she took some pity on her. "You want to talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about," Clarke grumbled, letting out a long breath as she continued to stare intently at her artwork. "I thought I'd feel better once I got this done."

"Well, you've still got two more to paint," Octavia pointed out, realizing that she wasn't being at all helpful, and really just wanting Clarke to say anything to confirm that she was okay.

"Right," Clarke said, snapping out of her haze and shaking her head, looking at Octavia with a smile that was tired, but better than nothing. "I'm just going to finish cleaning up- I'll see you later."

Octavia knew a dismissal when she heard one, so she wrapped an arm around Clarke in a brief hug before she pulled away and turned to go, but she stopped walking when she heard Clarke call out, "Hey O," in a stuttering, nervous voice, and she couldn't hide the huge smile that graced her face when her friend asked, "Does he ever talk about me? Like, in a good way?"

She threw the words over her shoulder, saying, "You'd be surprised," before she turned to leave for good, not being able to wipe the classic Blake smirk off her face as she went.

Later on that day, she was supervising a soccer game when she saw Bellamy across the field. "Hey Blake, get over here," she'd yelled, pulling his attention away from the girl he'd been talking to and waving him over.

"Who's that?" she'd asked innocently when he was finally in front of her, looking somewhat unimpressed.

"O, you've known Harper for years," he sighed, raising his eyebrows as he tried to understand what she was getting at.

"Right," she replied lightly, before going in for the kill when she asked, "Are you hooking up with her?"

If Bellamy had been eating something there was no doubt in her mind that he would have spit it out, but instead Octavia simply got to watch him choke on his own words. "OCTAVIA- what the FU-dge," he all but yelled, lowering his voice when more than one kid sent an accusing glance his way.

She couldn't help but smile at his reaction. "I'll take that as a no?" she confirmed, laughing when his only response was a disgusted look. "But is there anybody I should know about? Or, I don't know, anything?"

"It seems like you've jumped to some conclusions already," he replied, his expression quickly moving from amusement to annoyance.

"You and Clarke?"

The hand that ran through his hair, messing it up more than it had already been, and the brief clench of his jaw were the only responses she needed, but he spoke again soon, confirming just about everything that she'd suspected. "Has she said anything?"

At that it was Octavia's turn to act exasperated, because honestly, Bellamy and Clarke were impossible, and she said as much. "God Bell, did you ever think that maybe talking to her would be a bit more effective than avoiding her entirely?"

"Gee, no, I hadn't thought of that," he snapped, the edge in his voice catching Octavia's attention, because it was a tone that she hadn't heard from him in a while. But she kept staring at him and eventually he let out a deep breath, and with it all of his resolve to fight seemed to vanish. "I think I fucked up."

"Nah, I mean, no more than usual," she reassured him, having seen enough to know that him and Clarke were equally at fault for whatever was going on between them. "She's not mad. A little bit hurt, maybe, but mostly she's scared. Just be patient with her."

"Yeah," he agreed quietly, nodding his head slightly as he said it.

"Damn," Octavia commented, noticing her brother's chance in attitude and opting to break the more serious mood their conversation had taken. They were standing beside each other, so all she had to do was uncross her arms to nudge him with her elbow as she said, "You've got it bad, don't you?"

All he said was, "I don't know what you're talking about," but she noticed the way he had to force the corners of his mouth to turn down, and the light flush on his cheeks, and she knew better than to believe him.

"Right," she humored him, eyebrows raised in skepticism as she crossed her arms and looked out across the field, waiting, because she knew he wouldn't be able to stand the silence for very long.

"Damn O, when did you get so wise?" he asked a few seconds later, once again running his hand through his hair, though this time he was the one to nudge her with his elbow as he tried to hide whatever it was that he felt.

"I've been watching you two dance around each other for years," she laughed, "I'd have to be blind not to notice it."

His only response to that was a head nod combined with a shoulder shrug that made Octavia laugh out loud once again, because she never could understand how two people could be so perfect for each other, and so in tuned, and yet so oblivious to it all at the same time.

"Go now," she instructed, pushing him away from her as she rolled her eyes, "Don't you have a camp to be running?"

Shaking his head, he said, "Love you too, O," over his shoulder, and she couldn't help but smile as he walked away, because she was all but positive that her big brother was in love with her best friend.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this is a good time to use the 'surprise bitch' meme, because I haven't posted in SO long and I'm SO sorry, and (for a very little bit) even I didn't think I was going to keep writing this BUT here I am, and I've got about 7 more chapters planned out (and an epilogue!) so please forgive me?
> 
> ALSO a HUGE thank you is going out to Mia (lordmxrphy.tumblr.com) and Lyndsay (klokkombikru.tumblr.com) for betaing this for me- they are complete angels, and if this chapter it 1000x better than usual then you have them to thank!
> 
> ALSO thanks to the people still reading this, and commenting and leaving kudos, because I appreciate each and every one of them, and y'all are fantastic!
> 
> Enjoy! (And you can expect a Part 2 to this chapter within the next few days!)
> 
> (Also come find me on tumblr? campwellsjaha!)

If dancing around problems was a sport, Clarke Griffin belonged in the fucking Olympics. Bellamy had been upset after their initial fall out (and hurt, and confused, and pissed off), but talking with Octavia had helped calm him down and reassure him that things would work out. Of course, that had been over a week ago, and he wasn't making any headway.

Sure, they'd talked briefly about work, but the conversations were forced at best, and Bellamy winced when he recalled the one they'd had about the murals that still needed to be finished.

("Hey," he'd started off, trying to ignore the way her whole body seemed to tense when she realized he was addressing her, "The equipment shed looks great."

"Thanks," she'd replied, short and tight-lipped, "The kids really did most of the work."

"Right," he'd trailed off, ignoring the obvious lie for civilities sake. "When are we starting the next one?"

"I actually already have," she'd informed him, with what he could have sworn was a hint of regret swimming just behind her professionally detached expression.

"Well, let me know if you need anything," he'd finally spat out, the lack of honesty behind his words apparent to both of them as he excused himself from the conversation.)

It wasn't that she was rude, or harsh, or particularly hostile- he could handle that. He just hated the way that she completely shut down her emotions, opting to pretend that nothing happened rather than deal with it and, in the process, sending their relationship- their friendship back to square one.

Whether or not he'd wanted to, he'd gotten used to it pretty quickly, or at least he thought he had- if Wick happened to mention that he seemed on edge, and Miller brought up how strangely Clarke was acting around him, and even Jaha asked if he was alright, it was obviously because they were all misunderstanding the situation, because he was fine.

***

Bellamy was finishing his nightly rounds, which consisted of walking the path lined with cabins and making sure that everything was running smoothly- basically, if all of the lights were out and nobody was screaming, he could call it a night

Of course, it was rarely that simple, and he wasn't entirely surprised when he rounded the corner of the path, heading in the direction of the cabins that housed most of the staff, and saw that the majority of their lights were on, and music could be heard streaming faintly out of one of them. And of course, it was his little sister's cabin.

He crossed paths with people on his way there, most of whom had the decency to at least look a little bit embarrassed (not that he really cared- it was a given that the employees would need to let off steam every once in a while, and as long as it didn't get too out of control or interfere with the children he was fine with turning the other cheek), and then he was walking into the cabin, hit by the overwhelming smell of sweat and alcohol.

Glancing around, he made eye contact with Miller first, who was situated beside Monty, apparently helping to distribute the moonshine. An unapologetic shrug was the only response he got, to which Bellamy couldn't help but shake his head and let out a small laugh. Then, before he knew what was happening, a red solo cup was being pressed into his hand and he was being pulled further into the room, by none other than Raven Reyes.

She ignored his protests as she continued to drag him across the room, using more strength than he realized she had, and coming to a stop at the edge of a circle of people, lounging about, taking up a large portion of the floor space in the crowded room.

"Sit," she commanded, not hesitating to do the same as she walked through the group, plopping herself down less-than-gracefully onto a very pleased looking Wick's lap.

"What the hell is going on?" he asked skeptically, voicing his confusion as he looked around at the rather mismatched group of people gathered- there was Raven and Wick, Octavia and Lincoln, Harper, Monroe and Sterling. Jasper was there too, though he looked less than coherent, with Monty and Miller off to his side, poking him occasionally, probably checking for consciousness.

"We're having a party," Octavia supplied unhelpfully, her voice rising to a yell to be heard over the music that really wasn't all that loud to begin with.

"Any particular reason?" he dug for more information as he raised the cup to his mouth, caught a whiff of its contents, thought better of having the drink and put it down.

For a few seconds he watched his friends look at each other, all seemingly stumped by the question, before Harper's face lit up and she proclaimed, "It's somebody's birthday!"

"No it's not- if it were a birthday there'd be cake," Raven shot down that idea, before adding, "Besides, this was Clarke's idea- whose birthday would she be celebrating?"

"It was Clarke's idea?" Bellamy prodded, trying to keep them on track as he was finally getting some interesting information.

"Yeah," Octavia said quietly, before a thought crossed her mind and her eyes lit up, "Because Abby was here today."

"Yeah!" Raven joined in, "She seemed pretty cool!"

"No Raven- we told you, she's evil," Octavia protested, looking to Bellamy for help when Raven just raised an eyebrow.

"So you're telling me that when Clarke decided to drink away her problems after Abby showed up you guys just went with it?" he snapped, frustrated but knowing that his friends were too drunk to notice.

"That's what friends are for," Raven shrugged, still oblivious to Bellamy's disapproval of the whole situation as she leaned back against Wick.

"Great," Bellamy huffed, unable to keep the disdain out of his voice as he took in the scene in front of him, wondering how long it had been going on for and how he'd missed it because, really, everybody was smashed.

A drink got spilt on him, and he narrowly avoided being puked on, and he was pretty sure that the party had gotten completely out of hand, but as Bellamy wound his way out of the cabin there was really only one person he was looking for.

He found Clarke was sitting on the back steps that led up to her cabin, a cup discarded beside her and a half empty bottle of what seemed to be vodka in her hand. Her legs were folded up to her chest, arms wrapped around them, head resting on her knees, and she had definitely seen better days.

Part of Bellamy wanted to run and hide, because Clarke had made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with him, but he pushed that thought away, closing the little distance left between them, and taking a seat beside her, careful to leave a foot of space between them.

He was beyond relieved when she lifted her face and there weren't any tears, but the mockery of a smile that had engulfed it was more than a little concerning.

"Helllllo Bellamy Blake," she greeted him, emphasizing the 'k' in his last name and subsequently dissolving into a fit of giggles.

"Clarke," he replied wryly, not able to look away from her no matter how badly he wanted to. "I hear this party was your idea?"

"Why yes, yes it was," she said, embellishing the words with a tilt of her head and a flutter of her eyelashes that only really showcased how drunk she actually was. "And isn't it grand?"

"Grand?" he repeated her choice of words, a smirk overtaking his face because, even threw his overwhelming concern for her at the moment, seeing a drunk Clarke was more than a little bit amusing.

"Grand," she agreed, sweeping her arms through the air, the dramatic gesture causing her to spill some of her vodka, which she then brought to her lips and took a longer drink than he thought best. "You know, Blake," she choked, "I can be fun."

"Is that what they're calling it these days?" he teased, loving the way her lips pressed together to stop a smile from taking over her face as she tried to think up a comeback.

"I am fun," was all she ended up saying, the determination in her voice telling him that it wouldn't be a good idea to fight her on it, even if her words were slightly slurred.

"I know, Princess," he agreed, hiding his laugh at the triumphant smile on her face. "So, what's the party for?"

"Me," she said, as if that explained everything, staring solemnly off into the distance. "It's my birthday party."

"Clarke, you're birthday's in February," he reminded her delicately, distinctly remembering the 'Happy birthday Princess, have a great day!' he'd texted her, and the response that he never got.

"I didn't celebrate- I'm 19 and I deserve to celebrate," she gestured wildly, as if the sporadic movements made her logic any cleared, "I deserve to celebrate."

"I'm not arguing there, Princess," he acknowledged, deciding that humouring her was his best strategy at the moment.

"You're being really nice to me," she said quietly after a few seconds of silence, clearly surprised at his reaction, and that surprise was almost enough to break his heart.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I haven't been very nice to you," she shrugged, apparently having no qualms about bringing up their falling out in her current, inebriated state. "You were right, you know?"

"About what?" he asked hesitantly, knowing that it was best to get her answer out of the way, but still terrified to hear it.

"I am emotionally damaged," she said, her voice cracking on the last few words, but when Bellamy reached a hand out to comfort her she jerked her shoulder away. She continued after a few ragged breaths. "People keep dying and I don't know how to deal with that, and now I don't know how to deal with people who are alive either."

Her words were riddled with honesty that he didn't know how to handle. More than anything, he was grateful that when he reached out again, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his side, she didn't pull away.

"Clarke," he started a few moments later, speaking over the sniffles that were coming from where she'd buried her face in his chest, "You know I didn't mean that. I was mad, and hurt, and I lashed out."

"But it's still true," she protested, her voice shakier than he would have liked as she pulled away slightly and looked up at him, "I shouldn't be with y- anybody. I'm a mess."

"You're not a mess Clarke, you're drunk," he said frankly.

"I'm toxic," she protested a second later. The words sounded less shaky than her last conviction, though he wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

"That's bullshit, and you know it," he told her, letting the previously soft tone give way to something harsher and more determined, because as much as Clarke had to be upset about, he was tired of her drunk pity party. "Now, did you want to talk about why you're really out here drinking alone?"

"Bell…"

"I know your mom was here today."

She laughed humourlessly at that, clutching the bottle of vodka to her chest like a life line as she curled further into his chest, taking a moment before her explanation came tumbling out. "I can normally handle it- you know?"

He nodded his head knowing she'd feel it, and when she did she continued talking. "My dad is dead, and Wells is dead, and my mom barely looks at me. You know why she came by today?"

"She wanted to see how the murals were doing," she laughed again, the sound worrying Bellamy even more than it had before. "Her and Thelonious have decided to plan a memorial ceremony once they're finished. A fucking memorial."

Her response threw him for a loop, so it took him a few seconds to ask, "Clarke, I don't see how that's a bad thing…"

"She doesn't care, Bellamy," she said, the words sounding like they were causing her physical pain, "This was supposed to be for them, but she's going to make it all about herself, and it's not fair."

"I don't blame her anymore, but she still feels guilty," she went on, the words falling from her mouth as pieces clicked together in Bellamy's mind, "God, do you know how many memorials I've been to? Whenever the hospital gets a new wing, or somebody needs a donation she does it and she dedicates it to him, but this wasn't supposed to be about her. This is supposed to be for them."

Bellamy pulled back slightly to look at Clarke, surprised to see that her cheeks were dry and she'd somehow managed to keep her tears at bay, though if the way they were clutching to the rims of her eyes were any indication, it wouldn't last for long.

Finally, he asked, "What can I do?" keeping his voice soft and gentle, repeating the words, with more conviction, rocking her back and forth and doing what he could to comfort her, even though he was entirely out of his depth.

"I'm just really tired," was her eventual, half-hearted response that came out as more of a sigh than anything.

"Alright then, let's get you to bed," Bellamy suggested, waiting until he felt her head nod against his chest before he made quick work of dislodging the close-to-empty bottle from her hands and leaving it on the steps, standing up and then turning back towards her, pulling her up by both hands.

He realized pretty quickly that, if they wanted to get anywhere, he was going to have to do most of the work, so he wrapped his arm around her waist and waited for hers to find his shoulders, and then he started walking, only managing to move a few steps before she tugged on his shirt and asked, "Bell, where are we going?"

"My cabin," he told her, watching rebellion light up in her face but speaking again before she could protest, "There's no way you'll get any sleep in yours- it's filled with people and at least half of them have puked. A party probably wasn't your best idea, Princess."

"Fine," she muttered, leaning further into Bellamy's side as she stumbled forward, only complaining for a moment when he got tired of how slowly they were moving and picked her up, with one arm staying around her shoulders and the other sweeping underneath her knees.

"You're strong," she giggled a few seconds later, resting her forehead in the crease between his neck and shoulder, and by the time they got to his cabin he was sure she was asleep.

It was only after he'd set her down on his bed and wrapped a blanket around her before turning around, resigning himself to a night on the floor, that he felt her hand reach out and tug on his shirt. When he turned back around he saw that Clarke's eyes were half open, still clouded with sleep, but that she was doing her best to sit up.

"Bellamy," she started, her voice coming out as more of a breath as she was still struggling into consciousness, "I'm sorry I kissed you."

He closed his eyes for a moment and pursed his lips together, before he looked at her again and did the only thing he could think of, leaning over and pressing his lips to her forehead, finding one of her hands with his, and saying, "You don't have anything to apologize for."

He stayed there for a moment, with his forehead pressed against hers, listening to her breathing even out until he knew that she was asleep. It was when he tried to pull away from her that he realized just how tightly she was holding onto his hand, even in sleep, and forcing her to let go hurt him more than he'd like to admit.


	17. Chapter 17

Clarke woke up slowly at first, revelling in the warm blankets that smelt strangely familiar, until she realized that she wasn't actually in her own bed, at which point she startled awake entirely.

It only took her a few moments to realize where she was- the room was spotless, except for the pile of books beside the bed, and a blanket and pillow on the floor across the room from her- the only thing missing from the picture was Bellamy, smirking at her and making ridiculous comments about her being in his bed.

It only took her a few more moments to realize why she was there, at which point she threw a hand over her face (partly to block the light, but mostly to hide her embarrassment) and muttered, "Fuck," under her breath.

Her memories came back in parts- she remembered Abby's visit, and she remembered convincing Raven and Octavia to get drunk with her at an alarmingly early hour (it hadn't taken much convincing, really). After that she remembered a game of flip cup, a few too many shots, and not much else.

At some point in all of that, Bellamy had obviously found her, but how she ended up in his bed was a mystery, until it wasn't. He'd talked to her, and he'd listened to her, and he'd carried her to bed when she'd decided that she'd asked, and if that wasn't mortifying enough, she remembered what happened next.

"Fuck," she groaned again, glad that he was currently nowhere to be found because, with her head pounding and her stomach rolling, she definitely wasn't ready to deal with whatever repercussions were coming her way.

Unfortunately, she'd never been particularly lucky and, just as those thoughts ran through her head, she heard the water stop running in the bathroom and realized that he was getting out of the shower.

She wasn't proud of the fact that her first instinct was to run, but she decided to do it anyways, mourning the loss of warmth as she kicked away the blankets and moved to stand up, having to pause after a few seconds and wait for the room around her to steady because, fuck, she was hungover. Still, she tried her best to keep quiet, but had only made it a few steps away from the bed when she heard the bathroom door creak open.

Biting down on her lip, she turned around slowly and wasn't surprised to see that Bellamy was standing in the doorframe staring at her, though the fact that he was only wearing a towel threw her off because really, he wasn't exactly hard to look at.

They stared at each other until the silence between them was too much for her to handle and she opened her mouth, greeting him with a gravelly, "Hey," before she forced a smile on her face and gestured towards the door, feeling the need to explain herself. "I was just…"

His eyes remained trained on hers, steady as ever, but she could have sworn his voice wavered slightly when all he said was, "Clarke," with a tilt of his head that made it clear he wanted to say more.

"Sorry about last night," she interrupted him, rushing the words and hoping that he wouldn't say anything else because, really, no matter what her drunk self had done or said, she needed a cup of coffee before she could be expected to deal with it. "But thanks for…" she finished, trailing off and tilting her head towards the bed.

"Right," he said gruffly, shaking his head as if to break himself out of a trance before he started walking again, heading towards the wardrobe in the corner of the room. When he realized that she wasn't leaving he prompted her to continue talking. "And you remember…?"

"I don't really know," she supplied, noting the way he momentarily seemed to tense, and deciding to clarify, "I mean, everything's a little bit foggy, but I've got a general idea of what happened, I guess?"

"Right," he repeated himself, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took her in. However, the scrutinizing gaze only lasted a moment before his usual, teasing smirk made an appearance and he said, "Well, do you remember how grand the party was?"

"Grand?" she asked, trying to maintain eye contact despite the fact that he was rummaging through the wardrobe, pulling out a pair of pants. She did her best to remain passive, until realization hit her and she groaned, "Please tell me that's not my choice of word."

"I wish I could Princess," he all but sang, making it more than clear that he was taking pleasure in her embarrassment. "But hey- you were fun, so that's good, right?"

She knew the word was another jab at her but she didn't remember why, so she stuck with letting out another mortified groan, while dropping her head to look at the ground for a moment. (She definitely wasn't trying to avoid watching him getting dressed. Definitely not).

When she regained her composure, she looked up to find that he'd ditched the towel and was currently fastening the button of his jeans- an action that drew her attention momentarily to his waistline, and if the way his smirk grew was any indication, he definitely noticed.

"I'm going to go now," she decided, pretending that she spoke the words with conviction that she knew hadn't actually been there, and thanking god when, moments later, he finally pulled a shirt on.

"Didn't you already say that?" he reminded her, and even though she could hear his joking tone slip away, she just shook her head and turned away, heading for the door, but it wasn't long before he spoke up saying, "Clarke, wait," and she was helpless to do anything else.

"Clarke," he started again after a moment of silence, "Are you really just going to leave?"

"Bellamy, I-" she cut herself off, having no idea how to finish the sentence. More than anything, she wanted to get away from the pleading look in his eyes. She had an answer to his question and she knew that he didn't want to hear it, so she stayed silent.

"What am I saying- of course you are," he finished for her, his tone changing from frustrated to exhausted before she knew what was happening, as he glared at her from across the room. "That's what you do, right? You leave when things get too real. I don't know why I'm surprised."

"Bellamy," she tried again, wringing her hands together, and biting her lip, and trying to make him understand, before something in her snapped and she decided to fight back. "Don't do this," she warned, noting the way he squared off his shoulders and his lips turned up, forming something that was distinctly not a smile.

And then he scoffed- actually scoffed, before he snapped, "Don't do WHAT, Clarke? Try and have an actual conversation? You're right- what was I thinking?"

"This is about a hell of a lot more than a conversation, and you know that," she growled, hating the way he always simplified things, because it wasn't that simple- it couldn't be.

"Then PLEASE Clarke, tell me what it's about, because frankly? I have no idea," he drawled, the patience in his voice nothing but a mockery of her obvious frustration, as he put his hands on his hips and tilted his head, making a show of waiting for a response.

"I kissed you, Bellamy," she finally exploded, giving up on all pretenses as she put all of the emotion she had into the words, and hating herself a little bit when she continued, "I kissed you, and you- you made fun of me for it. It didn't matter to you."

He made to walk closer to her, and she saw her name on his lips but she didn't have it in her to listen, so she took a step back and crossed her arms over her chest, just trying to hold herself together.

"Is that what you think happened?" he asked, moments later, gaping at her from where he'd stopped walking, only a few feet away. "Clarke, you're the one who apologized."

There was something in his voice- sincerity tied together with pain that she knew she had caused, and it worked its way into her heart, past the walls she'd built up and the ghosts guarding them, and all she had left to say was, "I wish I hadn't."

It was barely more than a whisper, but she didn't look away and she knew that he'd heard her, and eventually he nodded. It wasn't much, but it was enough to let her know that they were on the same page, and she wasn't at all surprised when, moments later, he breathed out the words, "I know."

They weren't much, but she still felt all of the fight drain out of her, and she couldn't even muster up a fake smile when she spoke next. "So what now?"

"You can't shut me out," he finally said, confusing her but continuing anyways, "You can't run away when things get hard, and you have to talk to me. If we're going to do this you have to trust me, Clarke. Can you do that?"

"I can try," she decided, her brows furrowed as a million thoughts ran threw her head, and then Bellamy was moving towards her again and they all but disappeared. "I'll try."

"Then so will I," he said, making the words sound dangerously close to a promise as he stopped in front of her, tilting his face towards hers until there was barely any space left between them. "Clarke, if I kiss you, are you going to freak out?"

There were a lot of things that she didn't know, but the answer to that question was not on that list. "No," she said, not entirely sure if any sound came out of her mouth when it formed the word, but then she watched his eyes turn a shade darker, and his tongue dart out, licking his lips in anticipation, and there was nothing she could do but stare up at him and wait.

She wanted him to grab her, and to push her up against a wall, and to touch her everywhere and make her remember the feeling of his hands for days to come, but instead he seemed to melt.

He moved slowly, his hands finding her shoulders, and then the back of her neck, and then the sides of her face, and he moved towards her with more purpose than she thought she could handle. A part of her knew that he was giving her an out, and it was in that moment that she realized that she didn't want it, so she closed the distance between them, closing her eyes and finding his lips with her own.

Where he was gentle and easy and kind, she was fast and aggressive and every bit as passionate as he was, and when she bit his lower lip and he let out a moan that travelled through her whole body, she knew that he caught on.

*******

"Jesus CHRIST, would you turn the light off?" Octavia growled, startling Clarke, who had been trying to sneak back into their cabin as quietly as possible.

"That's the sun," she replied dryly, resenting the fact that she'd been caught and only feeling a little bit of pity towards her friend who, for all intents and purposes, looked about as awful as she did.

"Do I look like a care?" Octavia threw back, from where she was buried under a mountain of pillows and blankets in her bed. "God, where have you been?"

"Out?" she offered, knowing that it sounded like a question more than anything, and hoping that neither of her friends noticed just how awful she looked- her hair was a mess, her clothes were wrinkled, she definitely still smelt like vodka, and she was pretty sure her lips were bruised.

"Whatever," Octavia muttered, rolling back over into the bed and leaving Clarke to think that she'd gotten away with her recent activities going undetected.

Of course, a few seconds later, Raven wandered out of the bathroom looking only slightly better than the other two girls, she knew that her secret was out.

"Where were you last night?" the girl asked, narrowing her eyes and marching across the room until the two of them were standing face to face in defiance.

"Out?" she tried again, knowing that the response probably wouldn't work on Raven, but deciding that it was worth a shot nonetheless.

"Bullshit," Raven spat at her, filling the word with more malice than Clarke knew she'd intended. She then watched her friends' eyes trail up and down the length of her body, and it was only a few seconds before she accused, "You've been kissing somebody."

"WHAT?" Octavia all but yelled, shooting up from her spot under the covers and appearing way more awake than she had been just moments earlier. "WHO?"

Clarke pursed her lips together and tried to look anywhere but at her friends, but she knew that her face was flushed, and her lips turned upwards slightly, and she was pretty much a lost cause. "Do you really want to know?" she finally asked, directing the question towards Octavia and knowing that, that by itself was an answer.

"For real this time?" Octavia asked, her eyes narrowing in a look of skepticism that reminded Clarke more than a little of the other Blake's same expression.

"Yes?" Clarke replied, not sounding as confident as she wanted to, and all of a sudden feeling vulnerable as Octavia stared her down and Raven looked on in interest.

"Good," Octavia finally nodded, looking like she was trying to fight off a smile as she said, "But you know, if you hurt him I'll have to break your knees or something."

"Break her knees?" Raven snorted, looking amused as she took a step back and dropped herself onto Clarke's bed. "What are you, in the mafia or something?"

"I'm just saying, he's my brother- if I don't look out for him then who will?"

"I will," Clarke replied, surprising herself with the sincerity behind the words, but noting the look of gratitude that passed just behind Octavia's eyes, until Raven started laughing hysterically.

"Jesus CHRIST you guys, could you be more dramatic?"

"You love us," Clarke reminded her, throwing herself onto the bed beside Raven and slinging an arm around her shoulders.

"You love Bellamy," she sang back, the teasing smile on her face not disappearing, even as Clarke used the arm wrapped around her as leverage to try and push her off the bed.

"I hate you both," Octavia offered, smiling and shaking her head, before burrowing herself back into the blankets and trying to get away from the laughter filling the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY I know I've been making you guys wait ridiculous amounts of time between chapters, and this is me warning you that it might happen again- My sister's sick and she's been in the hospital for a few months now and I've finally got the chance to go home and spend some time with her, so I probabbly won't be getting very much writing done for a few weeks, and I hope you understand!
> 
> That being said, I would like to once again promise that I will finish this fic, despite me being the most unreliable author ever- I'm incredibly invested in these two losers getting a happy ending, I promise!
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and (as always) your reviews/kudos mean the world to me <3


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